*Warning: Super long post ahead.*
If you’re too slacker to read it all, drop down for the TLDR version, because I, too, love a good summary.
Now that the birthday festivities have mostly come to an end (Yes, I said mostly. I’ve got another round tonight, and a final celebration possibly later this month. Is it ridiculous? No. No, it’s not.) I can share one of the biggest things that happened the day before my birthday.
Let’s just say -ish got REAL.
If you look closely, that pink sheet says personal training.
Happy Birthday to me!
Let’s rewind a bit…so we joined the Y in February and a few weeks later we began the 12 weeks to Personal Fitness program, which after equipment orientation meant we would complete three workouts a week for 12 weeks.
We graduated from that in June, receiving a certificate and a free personal training session. Woot.
We then received a fitness assessment, which revealed that the more things change, the more they stay the same. (more on that in another post)
Trainer Nikki assessed us and we liked her so much, we decided to give her skills a whirl for our free personal training session.
So, the day before my bday we suited up to get our butts kicked. I was mildly terrified, since I’d never done any type of personal training. And I was concerned I’d be too sore to party properly during b-day debauchery.
It began well enough with a 10-minute Treadie warm-up. Funny how ya think you’re pretty solid at something and then your trainer bumps your incline up to 10. Right…5 minutes at 10 incline. Hills, y’all.
Next up, she and another trainer showed us all the exercises we were about to complete.
The first word out of her mouth…”blah blah push-up.” I quickly reminded her I was the gal who could not do one push-up in the fitness assessment.
Side note: I’ve since seen that Nikki has a knack for kicking me right out of my comfort zone within the first 30 seconds of our time together, and usually with just one word.
These fancy push-ups quickly became modified for me, and I learned a trick of wrapping my hand around a hand weight to take pressure off my wrist. Whatever y’all…those things are no joke. And I stink at ’em, but I tell ya this…I will rock them at the end of this journey. Challenge accepted.
Meanwhile, Fishface had no problem with this part of the session. Naturally.
For the next unknown amount of minutes, Nikki tore our cores up with all her crazy exercises. I don’t even know the proper names for any of them:
There were two types of push-ups, some kind of plank, one exercise where I lie down, hold Fishface’s ankles and pull my feet up for him to push down and regular crunches…holy ab work.
Another where we push against each other while in squat position. That one showed me how untrusting I am of my spouse. “Couples therapy,” Nikki joked.
There were 16-pound medicine balls passed around in seated position – holy twisted ab work. There were squat, jump, turn thingies.
Bottom line – no shortage of torture.
And the “good” pain hit the next day and got worse as the day worn on.
We apparently loved it so much that we signed up for 10 more sessions.
WHAT the WHAT, y’all!?!!
Though we had half-heartedly mulled this over in recent months, the decision was made rather impulsively as we stood there struggling to catch our breath in our sweat-drenched clothes.
Ultimately, we jumped right in, because we decided that THIS is what we needed more of in our lives – more sweat, more commitment, more “good” pain, more discomfort, more challenges, more days when one itty-bitty hour passes and you find yourself on the other side thinking, “Holy crap, I did it.”
Fishface convinced himself Nikki may have gone easy on us, since it was a free session, so we might think, ‘Hey, this isn’t so bad. Let’s get more.’
He found truth in that this week as we completed our first paid session. Haha.
This week a 10 minute warm-up meant death by Arc Trainer. Never been on that torture device before, but I’d likely get back on it. Masochist. That machine brought fire to my lungs.
Upper body weight training was next. For me 8 and 10 pound dumbbells, 12 and 15 for the Fish.
Sets and reps of up and over the head, out in front, kick backs, row row row your boats….seriously y’all I don’t know the names. All I know is we used a bench and it all hurt.
The word Nikki used this week to jump me right out of my skin: LUNGES. Lunges all around the track with 10 pound weights in each hand. My face had to have been priceless. Wish I had a picture.
Turns out I hate lunges, just as suspected, but I’m not bad at them. Never want to do another one though. Ever.
Bump that…the real thing I NEVER want to do again – anything involving the inverted ab bench.
Just no. I do really HATE that stupid piece of s***. Never been on one, never ever want to be on one again. I am not made to crunch abs in such a fashion. She made me crunch and twist, crunch and twist. AWFUL!
After cursing that crap, I redeemed my life with a 30-second plank. Didn’t even know I had it in me. Woot!
Oh and there were flutter kicks, which actually is the real name, but I now call them “flutter whatters.” They are harmless at the time, but holy hell when your lower everything hurts later, you just yell out, “Flutter Whatters!”
Stretching finished us out. I do love a good stretch.
The first real workout hit the Fish hard. He was catching his breath even when we were in the car. I was fine.
Fast forward a day: I grunt every time I go to sit in my chair at work AND every time I get up. Totally broken. I hurt in my sleep. It took me 40 seconds to pick up onion I dropped on the kitchen floor. And my butt felt like I had someone grabbing it forcefully all day. Not in a good way. Quads=fire. Will to live=questionable.
The “good” pain, as Nikki says.
We’re doing this every.single.week, y’all. There’s workout homework and food logging.
Actually, I am really excited. We tend to kick serious booty when we have goals and missions.
Fishface is already rocking the food tracking and sticking to his calories. This week has just been harder for me, overall. I want to eat the house. I’ll get it together. I logged every single day from Dec. 31 to June something or other. Should be no problem to get back to the habit. It’s sticking to the calorie limit that I gotta master.
Nikki rocks! And I’m thrilled she’s our captain on this adventure.
Here’s to all the “good” pain!
TLDR: We signed up for 10 weeks of personal training. Expect a workout recap post each week, unless I’m a slacker like you. Entirely possible.