Bad "Track" Record

Day 1 Weight:  252 lbs.
Day 184 Weight:  219 lbs.
Personal Trainer Sessions Complete:  24
Weight Difference:  -33 lbs.

So, anyone who knows me in real life knows that I'm not really a runner.  Okay, honest truth here, I'm not really a walker.  Being a runner is about as far fetched an idea as me being an astronaut.  Of course, it's possible, but severely unlikely.  If you have ever had a conversation with me about exercising, past gym class horror stories or just physical fitness in general, you have heard, at least once, the story of my witty banter with my college gym teacher.  Actually... I think the real name of the class was "Walking and Jogging."  You'd think I'd be better at this whole walking... and jogging... thing, right?  Silly.  I made an "A" though.  Anyway... on one of the rare occasions that we did actually walk or jog, our professor/coach who needed to justify his salary beyond office hours announced that the last person around the ridiculously lengthy course needed to pick up the cones that designated the path.  I smiled, raised my hand and happily said "Okay, I'll get them."  I'm also famous for my long-standing response when asked if I liked to run:  "I only run if something's chasing me."

Looking back, I think my negative reaction to doing anything faster than the moonwalk had less to do with my ability to do it and more to do with my confidence and self-esteem.  Being overweight most of my life, the constant battle is to suck it in, squeeze it in, hold it in, and don't let it move.  Creating a situation where my body and all of it's extras were allowed and forced to move freely beyond my control was horrifying.  I worried more about how I looked while running (plus, who knows what to do with your hands?! But, I still have that issue, so we won't go there tonight.) and couldn't care less that my prolonged inactivity was just contributing to the overall giggliness.

So, with this lifelong adversity to moving a whole hell of a lot in mind, you'll now better appreciate the seemingly insignificant but realistically monumental challenge that was presented to me tonight.  Bound and determined to get my behind to the gym, despite staying at work late, fighting Atlanta traffic in the rain, dodging and weaving my way in between blaring ambulances, police cars, Hero units, and idiot drivers, I squealed into the gym parking lot, grabbed my overstuffed gym bag and scooted inside.  I scanned my card, chatted with a nice lady about a Mary Kay giveaway for gym members (she gave me free lipgloss), and then slid into the locker room to my favorite changing spot.  I rummaged through my bag, picking out what to wear for tonight's walk/jog when a sudden, dismal realization hit me.  Surely not... I grabbed my shirt, okay... pants, yup... sports bra, okay... socks, got 'em...  Damn!!!  Most of the elements of a workday outfit can seamlessly transfer from the office to the gym.  Shirts, dress pants, regular bras can all function closely enough to not be an issue.  Just last week, I worked out with knee highs scrunched down inside my tennis shoes because I'd forgotten socks.  But, my dear friends, work shoes do not make for friendly gym footwear.  I stood there for a second in a state of half-dressed and realized I had one option:  go home and get my shoes.  I frantically threw the rest of my things back in my gym bag, grabbed my purse and headed out, giving the Mary Kay lady a short explanation as to why I was bolting past her.  She seemed to commiserate and back to the car I went.

As I was driving, I had an argument with myself.  'Really, it's silly to go all the way to the house just to get shoes.  Just take the night off,'  one side of my brain would say, while the other yelled back, 'No!  Get your shoes and go back!  You don't have anything else to do and you'll regret it when you're not ready for the 5K!'  Back and forth and back and forth.  I need groceries too, which is another stop, will I have time?  And damn, I need gas too.  Maybe I should just skip tonight... I pulled into the driveway and now began the real test.  I remembered something someone somewhere said to me once (it was probably my trainer... or someone's stupid inspirational status on Facebook):  "Don't give yourself the option to quit.  The only person who can stop you from doing what you want is you."

I did another 5K on the treadmill tonight, only this time I finished in 56 minutes.  I went back.  I don't know who I am anymore.  The old me would have gone home, changed into pajamas and chalked the gym trip up as a waste of gas, better planning next time.  But, I did it and not only surprised myself, but my Mary Kay later seemed truly shocked that I'd really come back.  I did the same walking/jogging strategy (that they did not teach me in the class of the same name, I'll have you know!) and it felt good.  I was more tired today, but that makes sense.  Going to fight through the pain and sleepiness.  I think spending all this time at the gym and learning how to exercise for the first time in my life from someone who can take the time to focus on what's good for me and my levels of ability instead of an entire class of kids has given me the jolt of confidence I needed to start this training right now.  I'm not worried about how I look or what's shakin', rattlin' and rollin'.  Don't care.  I want to sweat like a pig and run like something's chasing me.

Oh!  But, I did get two smiles and a head nod from a rather attractive gentleman (no, not my trainer) who was on an elliptical behind me when I finished my 5K practice round tonight.  So, I'm thinking there might be something to this whole exercise thing... and that I'm going to use that same treadmill tomorrow and hope he uses the same elliptical.

P.S. I also think I'm going to ask my trainer (more like tell him) to run the real 5K with me.  What do you think??