I like free things. A LOT. So when my most recent big "purchase" (a swim & fitness membership) comes with two free training sessions, who am I to say no? I sign up with a lovely young man who showed me how to turn on the treadmill on day one. This should be fun, right?
HA. HAHAHAHAHAH. I am currently considering sleeping in my recliner so I don't have to walk upstairs. We start out fine, he wants me a little faster on the treadmill than I am used to- I feel like I almost have to trot to keep up, but that 15 minute warmup was totally doable, especially after I made it clear that I DO NOT RUN. Unless chased by a bear- but then, really, I'd be backing away slowly. He gets my humor, this should be ok. Next up some sitting down, and standing up again. I can do that for one minute, especially as it was never specified how long I could sit during the minute. (I'm kidding, of course, but I did point out that the lack of concrete directions would provide me with loopholes that I would gloriously love to extort). Then some arm weight stuff- my right arm can do fifty pounds and my left was quivering at 15. Whoops. Clearly, I'm right handed.
Then he wanted me to throw a weighted ball at the ground. Repeatedly. Um, ok. Then I had to chuck it at him, repeatedly. He was all "Pretend you're really mad at me and hurl it at me!" Me: "I'm a pacifist, this just seems wrong!". I did it anyway. Then the devil machine- the elliptical- "Just do it until you burn 50 calories!" Me: "Or until I fall on my ass because it makes me dizzy and hurts my knees." He laughed. I promptly fell off, twice. Point made, elliptical is done for the day, but he really thinks it would be good cardio for me...
On to some easy to use weight machines- I have already explored those and had a pretty good clue how to use them- my goal is building upper body strength, because I kind of want to learn how to play tennis, and arms are pretty important for that. All was good until the chest press- oh good god that fucker would not move. I never realized how weak my boobs were. Trainer man is all "just push through it, grunt away" while I responded with "I DON'T GRUNT!" I got it up and did the reps. Last machine was this calf press thing. He set the weight at 30. I laughed at him. I have calves of steel. It's really my only muscle that is on point- all those calf raises to soothe plantar fasciitis have done their job! He set it at 50 and dared me to do 20 reps. Snore. Cake walk. Eventually we're at 130 and it's still easy. By the time we settle on a good weight, 170, I've already done numerous reps at lower weights and still manage to bang out 30 good reps. I wish I had a camera for his face- it was priceless.
I'm still cool and collected (yet sweating like a piggie wearing wool in 90 degree heat) so he wants to mix it up- and suggests the rowing machine.
Oh honey, I love that. And I'm good at it. This kid is good- he's gotten to know me, appreciates my sarcastic humor and dry wit, and is even making notes on how to make good spanakopita (I guess his girlfriend is Greek)? He's figured out that I am "not competitive" and yet probably the most stubborn, competitive woman of all time. Which is probably the truth if I am forced to admit it.
So he challenges me. If I get to 1500 meters before he does, he won't make me do the elliptical next session (I get one more freebie) so game on. I will do pretty much anything to avoid that stupid ass machine. Took me six minutes. He was only at 1100. Ha. No more elliptical for me!
And I can barely move he kicked my ass so badly- can't wait until our next session.
UPDATE: Still hurting- still managed to do some slow laps today and am now slathered with Tiger Balm.
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