Please Keep Trying!

I crawled outta bed at 6:00 this morning in order to make my 7:00 YTP appointment at the YMCA (the Y for short). I work my best at nights and consequently work late and get up late, but this needed to get done.

I was to meet “Biff” to discuss a new weight lifting regime to build up additional lean muscle mass. By new regime, I mean totally new, to me. I was finally going to learn how to lift free weights. Confession time: Free weights frighten me. I see the occasional woman in the free weight area and they’re usually doing light exercises with low weights. However, I mostly see huge, sweaty, grunting men bonding over massive chunks of iron. Scary.

Biff listened as I told my story for the umpteenth time: Need lose more weight, lost much weight already, need new improved routine. When I told him about my “obese” moment with the body fat meter, he scoffed. He informed me the only real test which would be most accurate for my situation would be the one where they dunk a person in water. Boy, was I warming up to Biff!

He showed me a whole slew of exercises for every area of my upper body. I could choose any three to do out of the five exercises specific to a muscle group, a total of fifteen exercises in all. He said I should never get bored with my routine. Too true.

Then we worked on abs. I complained even if I built up stronger abs, no one would see them because of the extra skin from the weight loss. He gave me a good admonishing for that one. I should be incredibly proud of what I did, he said, and still keep working towards my goal. Fine, but I’m still irate that I won’t have clue what my tummy will look until after I go under a knife.

After that, it was time to try out on the eliptical the new interval training, which was comprised of two minutes doing my regular level and incline and then doing two minutes with a much steeper incline and a higher resistance. Oh lord! Pain and wheezing like never before!

I swear I greased the rails of the machine with the deluge of sweat gushing from my pores. I was panting like a pooch in a Midwestern August. The electronic tunes from my I-pod were the only things cheering me on and keeping me going. I’m in good to great shape, but I pushed myself harder than I had in two years.

After my 30 minutes were up I almost fell off the damn machine, but managed with a little grace to slide down and wobble to the wipe down station. I cooled down, did my stretches and shuffled outta the Y. I barely made it up the stairs to the apartment and spent a good 20 minutes under a hot shower, mostly because I was too wiped out to shut off the water and get the day started.

Crap, I know I’m going be hella sore tomorrow. I’m happy though. It almost feels like I’m starting fresh with my routine, which I am, but it’s like the freshness of Alpha and not of Beta, which is what this is in actuality; a Beta run. Who cares what you call it I feel so good right now, I don’t mind I’ll bedridden for two days.