Fat camp, day 5.

I have been home from the gym for several hours, sitting here and considering my day.

Molly ran me through the ringer yesterday, for sure.  It’s her job.  And she’s really good because she isn’t distracted by my asinine observations and self-depreciating comments.  She is amused by me.  I can tell.  And that just feeds the fire of teacher-student brown-nosing.  (I made coffee for my high school drama teacher for 2 whole school years.  Don’t tell me that I don’t know what I’m doing.)  Molly likes me.  Or tolerates me at a level I will never begin to understand. 

Back to yesterday, she killed me.  She killed my arms and my back and my hamstrings.  I’ve stayed moving today, choosing to stand at the counter again instead of sitting down.  I did a ton of laundry because it was something I could do standing up.  Dishes are done.  Recycling taken out.  Just don’t ask for anything in the lower cupboards or the basement. 

Today was day 9 of the program.  How many days does it take to make a habit?  Because I’m definitely not there. 

I am getting…cagey?  I am in need of…something.  I get plenty of encouragement (thank you, thank you, thank you) so that’s not it.  I feel better.  Mentally, I’m great.  Most of the time. 

But I’m tired of being sore.  And I keep getting the thoughts of “let’s just get this over with” instead of “Okay, so this is how this is going to be.”  And that’s the wrong attitude.  When I am at the gym, I am there a hundred percent.  Maybe even more.  These workouts…they hurt.  And I’ll be the first to admit that when she says to put that machine at a 10 that I might only put it at an 8.  Not very often but I have been known to fudge just a little.  But that’s just so I can finish without seeing stars and passing out on the Cybex machine.

Oooo…this is the torture device du jour.  Do you remember the “Gazelle”?  Okay this is sort of like that. Kind of.

This is Cybex arc trainer.  And that’s me.  Okay, just kidding.  I need a better wardrobe.  And a tan apparently.  Anyway, so you hold the handles and you “swing” your legs.  Except that there is no swinging.  There is resistance from 1-100.  We were in the 15-25 range.  Oh.  Em.  Gee.  I thought I was going to die.  Molly had me do about 6 minutes of this yesterday but that was at a very low level.  Today just about killed me.  Also, boring.  But that’s my fault because I knew that this was the day where we were largely unsupervised and so an iPod is probably warranted.

So I get through the workouts and I feel pretty good.  My lungs are remarkably clear.  I have a great attitude.  I’m getting to know the other gals in the class.  The ones, anyway, that are there to make friends.  There are two girls who don’t talk to any of us but, hey, their loss.  Before and after class, I’m like Mayor McCheese.  And that’s pretty good for me considering that I don’t like people.  Much.  Okay I do but only if they like me first.  Or something.

Wednesdays at Fat Camp are also weigh in days.  That’s right decent of them to have weigh in on Wednesdays.  Most other places do it on Monday.  Right after the weekend and all of its debauchery.  That’s so not fair.  But this way, we’ve had in at least one workout and the reality of the workweek to get squared away before we have to report.

And what was my report?  I am down, from last Wednesday, 2.9 pounds.  Yea!  Me!  Rah, rah, rah…

So then why do I feel all…meh?  I’m not excited.  I’m glad that there is something but it just seems like a lot of work for 3 measly pounds.   I mean a ton of work.  I don’t know how else to put this but I feel like I worked my ass off.  (3 pounds of it to be exact). 

I should be happier about it.  And I know that if I stick to it, 3 pounds a week adds up.  12 pounds in a month?  I can get behind that.  30 pounds by the end of this whole mess?  Bring it on.  But then I’ll have to do a second session for the next 30 pounds but we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it. 

I’m sick of being sore.  I’m sick of drinking all the water.  I’m sick of smelling like fish.

Did I mention that they have us on Omega-3 fish oils?  They do.  Several times a day.  The nutritional discussion of Omega 3s will be for another post but let’s just say that we should all be smelling like fish.  I wish I was kidding.  Anything liquid, gas or solid that comes out of my body smells a little bit like a bait shop.

This is enormous.  This idea of a true lifestyle change. 

I hope I don’t let you down.  I hope I don’t let myself down.

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2 thoughts on “Fat camp, day 5.

  1. In 12-step programs they ask you to give it six weeks before you give it up. I’m assuming that’s how long it takes for most of us to adjust to some new routine or relinquishing something.
    Word of advice from a 49 year old: Make these changes now because I can’t begin to tell you how hard it gets after 40. Appetite increases while your metabolism slows…real fair eh?

  2. My 1st job was as an insurance sales person. And if you know anything about cold calling and high pressure sales, you know that it sucks ass! Anyway, my boss at the time was a wonderful man! Very successful and encouraging. His mantra to all us newbies was “three weeks forms a habit.”

    It has always stuck with me.

    The hardest, most challenging experiences seem to ease up around that three week mark.

    It’s also important to not view the end of this program as the end of your work out regimen. Excercise is a goal you never really obtain. While it will become MUCH easier for you, it’s so important to maintain that fitness level for your health and overall well being.

    Ok, sorry if that was preachy. Didn’t mean for it to sound that way. 3 lbs Jenn!!! That’s so kick ass;) Thank you for sharing this personal journey with us! I love reading how each and every session goes!

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