The Friday class at my work gym rotates between either yoga or kickboxing, two totally different ways to relieve tension. I have never done the yoga class before because I really didn't think I could do it and also because, before today, I didn't think I could get in a good calorie burn without loud music and lots of fast cardio.
Today my buddies and I headed down to the gym, preparing to get our punch-on, but when we walked into the group exercise room in order to stake out our places on the floor before changing, we discovered that the lights were dimmed and there was light, tinkly tinkly music flowing out of the speakers rather than the usual bumping hip hop. As Pam, our instructor, confirmed that today was yoga, we looked at each other with doubt on our faces. I'm glad I didn't have much notice of the change because I probably would have backed out and hit the treadmill instead of shrugging and saying, "Okay, let's try this."
I walked into the room in my tennis shoes and socks, but when I looked around, everyone was taking their shoes off. Okay, at this point you probably are gathering the severity of my yoga ignorance. I took off my shoes but kept my socks on until my friend Marianne, who's not yoga-ignorant, explained that it was better to take off socks so you wouldn't slip on the mat. So, I yanked those off too, thinking ironically that had I been better informed, I could have saved myself the ten minutes I spent this morning trying to find a matching pair of clean gym socks.
As I sat on the mat waiting for class to start, the tinkly music lulling me already, I figured that the class would be good for stretching, but there was no way I was going to burn calories. Yes, I was that yoga-ignorant, but I quickly learned a few things.
First, yoga is no joke. I worked up a sweat almost to the degree of my Wednesday Step class.
Second, I can do yoga! My year of faithful exercise has created a body that is flexible, balanced, and that has one heck of a set of muscles that can do almost every pose in the routine. It was one of those wonderful times where my body surprises me that I am simply able to do something. These are the moments that make up my momentum to move forward on my path, the wonderfully addictive little experiments.
Third, it might take me a while to be able to get into the whole meditative state of yoga. Today my Transformation team mates and I were on the back row of the class giggling at each other as we twisted ourselves new ways. No amount of mood music or low lighting could keep my chuckles away and for some reason I couldn't help myself from wanting to make corresponding animal sounds from the names of the poses. Coming up into Prone Cobra I just had to hiss. Then when Pam instructed us to get down low into our runner's lunge, I wanted to sing some Lil' John ("let me see you get low, you scared, you scared").
Surprisingly we didn't get kicked out of class and the best part part came at the end when we got to lay on our backs and relax ourselves all the way down to our tows. It was a great way to end a hard exercise week where we've banged our bodies through 5K training, Step class, a killer workout in the heat with Jeff and Marisa, and Jeff's torturous 100/20 rep strength training combos. Yes, my Pigeon pose was more like Dead Buzzard on the Side of the Road, but I realized today just how strong all these muscles that I've been building really are....I'm hooked!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
On the Other Side
Everyone has hideous pictures. Ones that when you happen across them in a drawer or old album, make you cringe at all of their weird-outfit-wrong-shoes-eighties-hair awfulness. You know, those snap shots or school photos that immediately cause you to cringe and say, "What was I thinking?"
I told a friend the other day that these days, strangely, I have been dragging them out and saying, "Look at this really bad picture of me! Isn't it awful?" and laughing. Yeah, I get strange looks sometimes, but it feels great to look at those shots and know that that person is no longer me. So here goes another bad picture. It was taken last year, a few months before my healthy journey started, along the Cape Fear River with my cousin Holly and her daughter, Maggie:
Boy, at that time I had no idea what a wonderful journey I was about to embark on. Now for the current shot. Below is a shot from last weekend with my husband, taken on the other side of the Cape Fear River and on the other side of the first year of this journey:
I told a friend the other day that these days, strangely, I have been dragging them out and saying, "Look at this really bad picture of me! Isn't it awful?" and laughing. Yeah, I get strange looks sometimes, but it feels great to look at those shots and know that that person is no longer me. So here goes another bad picture. It was taken last year, a few months before my healthy journey started, along the Cape Fear River with my cousin Holly and her daughter, Maggie:
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| Last year, along the Cape Fear with Holly and Maggie |
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| On the other side. |
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
How Far We've Come
There have been many times on this journey where I've looked back and realized that I'm going to remember that particular moment for the rest of my life. Moments like these are the ones that you add to your own personal movie montage reel.
Today was one of those days. After our warm up, Jeff and Marisa surprised us by leading us out of the gym and into the sunshine. We all looked around at each other, wondering what was about to happen, but I was excited about doing something new and the absence (finally) of rain clouds. It started off right there in our parking lot as we stood up and sat down from the benches fifty times. The sun was warm and I had already started to sweat.
As soon as we'd finished that, we had to jog after Jeff down the length of the parking lot and across the street to our parking deck. I've felt pretty good about my running skills on the treadmill, but outside on pavement I found running to be a LOT more difficult. My confidence about running a 5K started to go down rapidly - unlike the temperature. I started slowing down and my breathing got shallow, but Marisa stayed by my side the entire way down the parking lot, across the street, and up six flights of stairs to the very top level of the parking deck.
As I climbed the steps, my team yelled encouragements to me and Marisa kept up a steady stream of support. It was hot, the stairwell had a weird smell, and there were enough seagull feathers scattered around to make me nervous. Seagulls freak me out due to my previously being attacked by them, but that's another story all together. So here's the situation: it's hot (I hate that), there are stairs (I'm still a little scared of falling to my death), and there's the possibility of coming face to face with a seagull (i.e., winged terror). Needless to say, I was struggling. But then, from above me I heard the cheers of my team mates, calling my name and pushing me forward. When I got to the top, they applauded me and there were high fives all around. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't speak, but that's just how this group is.
The workout was far from over though. Up on the roof of the deck, where no cars usually park but where the view of downtown Wilmington and the Cape Fear River is spectacular, we did lunges, squats, sprints, and a round of sixty push ups. The sun was bright, the temps were up, and this was one of the toughest workouts ever. Then came the finale...walking down the steepest ramp of the deck and running back up...twice. I had serious doubts, but Marisa and Jeff and the rest of the team cheered me on. I pushed the heat and the fatigue to the back of my mind and just concentrating on my feet while blocking everything out but the sound of Marisa's voice. And I did it! Yes, I was the last one up the hill, but at the top were the other members of my team cheering me on, and at my side were my two trainers, keeping me going.
As I slowed my breathing, I looked out across the horizon at all of the personal landmarks down below, different distances I have marked on the months of this journey, I could literally see the distance that I have come. That, and the incredible group of people surrounding me, took my breathe away more than the toughest of workouts. We were hot, sweaty, thirsty, and worn out, but we were also victorious. Victorious...and we still had to go back down all of those stairs and walk back.
Today was one of those days. After our warm up, Jeff and Marisa surprised us by leading us out of the gym and into the sunshine. We all looked around at each other, wondering what was about to happen, but I was excited about doing something new and the absence (finally) of rain clouds. It started off right there in our parking lot as we stood up and sat down from the benches fifty times. The sun was warm and I had already started to sweat.
As soon as we'd finished that, we had to jog after Jeff down the length of the parking lot and across the street to our parking deck. I've felt pretty good about my running skills on the treadmill, but outside on pavement I found running to be a LOT more difficult. My confidence about running a 5K started to go down rapidly - unlike the temperature. I started slowing down and my breathing got shallow, but Marisa stayed by my side the entire way down the parking lot, across the street, and up six flights of stairs to the very top level of the parking deck.
As I climbed the steps, my team yelled encouragements to me and Marisa kept up a steady stream of support. It was hot, the stairwell had a weird smell, and there were enough seagull feathers scattered around to make me nervous. Seagulls freak me out due to my previously being attacked by them, but that's another story all together. So here's the situation: it's hot (I hate that), there are stairs (I'm still a little scared of falling to my death), and there's the possibility of coming face to face with a seagull (i.e., winged terror). Needless to say, I was struggling. But then, from above me I heard the cheers of my team mates, calling my name and pushing me forward. When I got to the top, they applauded me and there were high fives all around. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't speak, but that's just how this group is.
The workout was far from over though. Up on the roof of the deck, where no cars usually park but where the view of downtown Wilmington and the Cape Fear River is spectacular, we did lunges, squats, sprints, and a round of sixty push ups. The sun was bright, the temps were up, and this was one of the toughest workouts ever. Then came the finale...walking down the steepest ramp of the deck and running back up...twice. I had serious doubts, but Marisa and Jeff and the rest of the team cheered me on. I pushed the heat and the fatigue to the back of my mind and just concentrating on my feet while blocking everything out but the sound of Marisa's voice. And I did it! Yes, I was the last one up the hill, but at the top were the other members of my team cheering me on, and at my side were my two trainers, keeping me going.
As I slowed my breathing, I looked out across the horizon at all of the personal landmarks down below, different distances I have marked on the months of this journey, I could literally see the distance that I have come. That, and the incredible group of people surrounding me, took my breathe away more than the toughest of workouts. We were hot, sweaty, thirsty, and worn out, but we were also victorious. Victorious...and we still had to go back down all of those stairs and walk back.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Do it. Get Hooked.
I've been enjoying playing trainer for the past few days and got an unexpected compliment from my friend Mary who said that my workout on Thursday (running stairs, pull ups, burpees, wall-sits, weights, rowing machine, treadmill, flying squirrels, and planks just to hit the highlights) was just as tough as Jeff and Marisa's. In fact Frank has started calling me Marisa Junior. I've taken leadership positions in various aspects of my life, but never in a million years would I ever have thought I'd find myself leading workouts. Little over a year ago, I couldn't even contemplate how I would have the stamina to make it through a workout, much less find the pleasure of designing one and leading people through it.
Little over a year ago, I avoided anything physical. Physical exercise, or even the physical things you have to do just to live your life equaled pain and exhaustion to me which also equaled avoid at all cost. Never, ever did I think that I would find the joy and elation that having strong muscles and endurance would give to me, or the reward in pushing myself as hard as I can go.
These days I can tell you that there is no better feeling than to feel myself run faster and faster on the treadmill, or to look out across the gym as we all do a workout I created and to find satisfaction in the red faces and sweaty shirts of my friends. It's addictive and heady to look back after a year and find myself transformed from a person who actively sought the easy way out into a person who shows up at the gym begging to get her butt kicked.
I recently ran into a friend who has been wanting to start her own journey and who has been so supportive to me in mine. On her face I saw the same want and desire to change her situation that I had a year ago and it got me excited for her and the amazing journey I see her starting very soon. To her and to anyone who wants it bad but may not feel like it is possible I say: do it. Do it, it is so worth it. Even in the workout that I created, I was the slowest one up and down the stairs, but five other people (my dear friends who have fought this battle at my side) kept running extra laps up and down until I finished mine so that I wasn't alone. Do it. People will be there for you. I will be there for you each step of the way.
Even if you think it's impossible, just start and see what happens. It will be hard and frustrating at first, there are aches and pains. There are tears of frustration. There are times when you feel like your body is rebelling against you. But one day it gets easier. Then it gets better. And before you know it, you find yourself running on the treadmill and grinning like an idiot because you're proud of yourself. That's when you really get hooked.
Little over a year ago, I avoided anything physical. Physical exercise, or even the physical things you have to do just to live your life equaled pain and exhaustion to me which also equaled avoid at all cost. Never, ever did I think that I would find the joy and elation that having strong muscles and endurance would give to me, or the reward in pushing myself as hard as I can go.
These days I can tell you that there is no better feeling than to feel myself run faster and faster on the treadmill, or to look out across the gym as we all do a workout I created and to find satisfaction in the red faces and sweaty shirts of my friends. It's addictive and heady to look back after a year and find myself transformed from a person who actively sought the easy way out into a person who shows up at the gym begging to get her butt kicked.
I recently ran into a friend who has been wanting to start her own journey and who has been so supportive to me in mine. On her face I saw the same want and desire to change her situation that I had a year ago and it got me excited for her and the amazing journey I see her starting very soon. To her and to anyone who wants it bad but may not feel like it is possible I say: do it. Do it, it is so worth it. Even in the workout that I created, I was the slowest one up and down the stairs, but five other people (my dear friends who have fought this battle at my side) kept running extra laps up and down until I finished mine so that I wasn't alone. Do it. People will be there for you. I will be there for you each step of the way.
Even if you think it's impossible, just start and see what happens. It will be hard and frustrating at first, there are aches and pains. There are tears of frustration. There are times when you feel like your body is rebelling against you. But one day it gets easier. Then it gets better. And before you know it, you find yourself running on the treadmill and grinning like an idiot because you're proud of yourself. That's when you really get hooked.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Ooo That Smell
Remember those old episodes of Tom and Jerry where Tom would be really hungry and start hallucinating that various objects and people around him were turning into juicy hams or large turkey legs? I think the same thing is happening to me only instead of seeing visions of food I am experiencing phantom smells.
Today in the gym as I ran on the treadmill, I suddenly caught a whiff of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It was so strong that it was almost like being in my Momma's kitchen. There's no logical reason for the smell. No one had cookies in the gym and there wasn't even anyone near me who could have been wearing cookie-scented body spray (wouldn't that be torture?). What was disturbing was that earlier in the day I had smelled fried chicken, pot roast, baked beans, and spaghetti. All again for no reason.
It must be my stricter diet that has me "hallucinating" smells lately. If only I could harness this mental fake-out and use it to my favor. After my workout, I sat at my desk crunching carrots and trying to mentally turn them into Doritos. Ummm I LOVE carrots. They are just as tasty as Doritos. They are orange and crunchy like Doritos. Sooo satisfying.
Didn't work. I finally broke down and ate a 100 calorie snack and was so grateful for it I started singing, "I have popcorn, I have popcorn, na na na na na nahhhhhh" to the tune of La Cucaracha to myself at my desk. I'm sure my cube neighbors doubt my sanity, and quite frankly so do I after everything I've been smelling today. Dieting will plain turn you crazy.
Today in the gym as I ran on the treadmill, I suddenly caught a whiff of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It was so strong that it was almost like being in my Momma's kitchen. There's no logical reason for the smell. No one had cookies in the gym and there wasn't even anyone near me who could have been wearing cookie-scented body spray (wouldn't that be torture?). What was disturbing was that earlier in the day I had smelled fried chicken, pot roast, baked beans, and spaghetti. All again for no reason.
It must be my stricter diet that has me "hallucinating" smells lately. If only I could harness this mental fake-out and use it to my favor. After my workout, I sat at my desk crunching carrots and trying to mentally turn them into Doritos. Ummm I LOVE carrots. They are just as tasty as Doritos. They are orange and crunchy like Doritos. Sooo satisfying.
Didn't work. I finally broke down and ate a 100 calorie snack and was so grateful for it I started singing, "I have popcorn, I have popcorn, na na na na na nahhhhhh" to the tune of La Cucaracha to myself at my desk. I'm sure my cube neighbors doubt my sanity, and quite frankly so do I after everything I've been smelling today. Dieting will plain turn you crazy.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Mental Vacation
"I promise you that I'm smart." I used to say that repeatedly to my trainers. Why the need to reassure them that I wasn't in fact an idiot? Because of the weird phenomenon that happens when I walk through the gym doors...my brain completely takes a vacation.
They say left, I go right. They say right, I go left. Every time. You should see me in Step class. It's a hot mess. I have trouble following other commands too. Just last week Marisa was stretching us out after a tough workout and as I stood there stretching and sweating and slowing my breathing, I heard her saying, "Feet together. Feet together. Feet together."
I started chuckling, thinking it was funny that one of my friends didn't get where to put their feet until I heard, "Minter. Feet together."
I looked down and sure enough, my feet were spread widely apart. Whoops. Today I was back to confusing my left and right. I'm also very likely to trip on random weights that are strewn out across the floor due to lack of looking where I'm going. And I've flown off the back of more than one treadmill. But I promise, I really am smart.
They say left, I go right. They say right, I go left. Every time. You should see me in Step class. It's a hot mess. I have trouble following other commands too. Just last week Marisa was stretching us out after a tough workout and as I stood there stretching and sweating and slowing my breathing, I heard her saying, "Feet together. Feet together. Feet together."
I started chuckling, thinking it was funny that one of my friends didn't get where to put their feet until I heard, "Minter. Feet together."
I looked down and sure enough, my feet were spread widely apart. Whoops. Today I was back to confusing my left and right. I'm also very likely to trip on random weights that are strewn out across the floor due to lack of looking where I'm going. And I've flown off the back of more than one treadmill. But I promise, I really am smart.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Hard Work Never Hurt Anybody
It was definitely a busy Monday today.I missed my workout time with my buddies and found myself faced with the gym after work. I rolled in close to six o'clock to find Sylvia finishing up her workout. As I stood there chatting with her, I was so tempted to turn around and head home. All I wanted was my comfy chair, conversation with my husband, and dinner. I wanted no part of that treadmill.
"I don't want to do this Sylvia." I said.
She said, "Just get it done. You will feel better."
Simple words, but oh so true. I remember hearing my Mema saying to me when I was a child, "Hard work never hurt anybody." It is a theme from that generation who had to grow up tough during the Great Depression. She is the next to youngest of six children whose Daddy died young from blood poisoning and left her mother alone with the children to raise and a farm to contend with, right smack in the middle of the Great Depression. Mema learned from an early age that everyone had to pitch in so that the family was able to survive, in fact she used to tell us stories of pulling weeds from the strawberry fields when she was just a little thing, probably not even in school yet. No one back then had to worry about diet or exercise. They had fresh farm food and plenty of hard work to burn off any calories they took in.
Fast forward to now, me standing in the gym, needing a workout because I sit at a desk all day to do my work. I buy all of my food at the grocery store that someone else has grown and if I get real squirrely, I don't cook at all and pick up food that someone else has worked hard to prepare. And here I was whining about not wanting to exercise, shame on me.
I got on the treadmill, turned on my music, and picked up my feet. Soon I had a good sweat going and when I walked out of the gym, all the jittery Monday feelings were gone. Mema is right. Hard work never hurt anybody.
"I don't want to do this Sylvia." I said.
She said, "Just get it done. You will feel better."
Simple words, but oh so true. I remember hearing my Mema saying to me when I was a child, "Hard work never hurt anybody." It is a theme from that generation who had to grow up tough during the Great Depression. She is the next to youngest of six children whose Daddy died young from blood poisoning and left her mother alone with the children to raise and a farm to contend with, right smack in the middle of the Great Depression. Mema learned from an early age that everyone had to pitch in so that the family was able to survive, in fact she used to tell us stories of pulling weeds from the strawberry fields when she was just a little thing, probably not even in school yet. No one back then had to worry about diet or exercise. They had fresh farm food and plenty of hard work to burn off any calories they took in.
Fast forward to now, me standing in the gym, needing a workout because I sit at a desk all day to do my work. I buy all of my food at the grocery store that someone else has grown and if I get real squirrely, I don't cook at all and pick up food that someone else has worked hard to prepare. And here I was whining about not wanting to exercise, shame on me.
I got on the treadmill, turned on my music, and picked up my feet. Soon I had a good sweat going and when I walked out of the gym, all the jittery Monday feelings were gone. Mema is right. Hard work never hurt anybody.
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