Tuesday, June 8, 2010

A day with Dee

I went to the gym yesterday immediately after writing the previous post. To workout with Dee.

Here are the many different thoughts that ran through my head and then a few that flew out of my mouth.

I arrived approx. 7 minutes early. Enough time to go to the change room switch from my outdoor gym shoes Dee disapproves of, into my over priced indoor gym shoes Dee does approve of.

I have with me my water bottle filled to the brim, my workout book that Dee puts unnecessary information in, and am armed with, of course, my shoes.

I throw my giant purse/bag into a locker, generally the same locker as always, in the corner, by the mirror. Then I hurl the bag I brought all of my goodies in, then on top of both I try to disguise my loot with the over sized hoodie I wear no matter the temperature outside. (Because clearly if a thief were to see a hoodie draped perfectly over top of a large inconspicuous lump they wouldn't dare think that there's anything of value underneath.).

I slam the locker door shut and go about my business.

Yeah, it's true I never use a lock. I'll learn my lesson the hard way one of these days.

I peek at myself in the mirror as I walk by and notice the smaller ass that stares back along with an unwelcome curve or two I plan to get rid off this very day.

I walk purposefully up the stairs and to the cardio area and hop on a comfortable bike. I'm not sure why I always do this as my 'warm up', probably because when I started I didn't feel like weaving through the traffic of machines I didn't know how to use. For whatever reason that's what I do, even now.

It's at this point I put the machine on 'warm up' and pedal.

As I pedal I watch the closed captioning on the screens in front of me. All are generally news. Morning news, sports news, basically all flavours of ... news. I really pay no attention.

As I pedal a couple of minutes in my heart begins to pound a wee bit harder. Not because my heart rate's accelerating due to physical exertion but because I know that in a few minutes Dee will round that cursed corner and make his appearance. I would've thought by now I'd be over the feeling of getting butterflies but I'm not.

Oh, by the way, I don't get butterflies because I'm smitten with Dee (although I'm sure he'd like to think so), I get the flies because I begin to get nervous for what I know this man is going to do to me. Evil, evil things.

Anyways, I pedal on and try my best to interact with the news stories, it doesn't work and I begin a nervous sweat. Luckily this is a great place to 'nervous sweat' because no one can tell the difference. By the time Dee finally comes to retrieve his next victim, me, I've got pit stains. Beautiful.

As he comes closer he looks at me seriously and gives his head a side nod. As if to say 'Ok get off that machine and come get it kid'.

I take a big breath and long for more bike time in a way I never do when I actually go in to do cardio. (I hate the bike during cardio - with a passion. But I do it anyway).

I follow Dee into the evil area where the family of weights live. They are there, big and small, each waiting for their turn to show me how weak I am or prove to me I'm stronger than I think.

Today it seemed as though Dee wanted to give me a treat. He tells me to start doing steps up on the bench. The low bench I started on in week one.

'Wow!' I thought 'This is awesome! And so much easier than when I started. Pfffst he's going easy on me today!'

Stupid, stupid girl I am.

Once I've done a bunch on each side he goes over to the weight family and picks up 2 twenty pound weights. Not the new compact shiny ones, the huge old school ones that are wonderfully awkward and rather ugly to look at.

I give him a look that says 'What are YOU planning on doing with those?'

To which he replies with a look back that says 'I'm not doing anything with them, YOU are'.

He puts the weights in my hands and tells me to do 10 step ups with each leg on the bench. In my head I tell him to do something too.

He warns me that today if I stop or pause for a moment he's starting his counting all over again. I shoot him yet another angry glare, then get even angrier when he smiles after.

I did what he told me to do, carefully making sure I didn't pause too long, yet still requiring him to remind me of this 'anti pause' rule several times through out. I almost fell once.

We repeat these fun exercises two more times to equal three sets.

We then mosey over to the, well, I don't know what it's called. It's a bar you have to sit under on the floor and pull yourself up to. I do eight with Dee saying 'Don't bent this, go higher, hold longer'. I tell him off yet again ... in my head. He is surprised that today I'm in a good mood and have yet to verbally pronounce my hatred out loud as I usually do.

After I finish my first set of those he states 'You do the second most of all of my female clients'.

I reply 'That's not good enough'. I'm now competing.

He immediately wants me to stand and do jump squats with what I believe are 10 pound weights (I could be lying, it could have been more, I don't remember). I begin to do them and he forces me to go back, start over and stop the cheating. He finds a nearby bench for me to ensure fairness. I hate him for it.

He gives me his bulgy wrestler stare that is telling me to get at it, then begins counting at one again. I hate him even more.

We repeat this fun practice for another two sets. Conversing in between. He makes it out without having his wrestler eyes scratched out. This time.

We then moved on to other fun things. Lunges with weights. I had to do four lunges, while holding the last do five shoulder presses in the air with the weights (those are over head). Then walk into another four lunges, five presses, until I've done 20 lunges and too many shoulder presses in one set.

By the end I feel it burn so bad I'm ready to let way too many words slip out of, what's now, my sailor mouth. We repeat this fun time two more times.

During my first set Skinny Chick walked by (remember the taller 135 pound walking stick who works at the gym and is also training with Dee trying to get 'bikini ready', grrrr..) and I seriously have to reign in all of my pent up anger at, well, naturally skinny people, and the fact that she too has 'goals and dreams'. I honestly use all of my energy at that point NOT to whip my weights at her in hopes of shattering every tiny little bone in her body.

I tell Dee all of my angry thoughts during the break between sets and he feels the spirit move him to give me a lecture on everyone's right to 'feel right in their skin', blah, blah, blah ... At the end I just warn him that 'she' still better not get anywhere near me again while I'm doing those or she'll end up seriously injured. He smiles and shakes his head.

As though we hadn't had enough fun. Dee tells me we're going to do the same routine only omit the shoulder presses (to which I yell 'YAY!!'), and add in bicep curls (never mind, 'Boo!!').

During this excursion my current favourite song comes on the radio and I tell him so. It's called 'Soul Sister'. He says 'Mine too, before it was overplayed' then goes on to to sing it word for word, pointing out learicks (how the heck do you spell this word?!) I'd never noticed before. We chat about it and I momentarily forget I'm being tortured.

When we are done those we move onto .... well I can't remember what they're called. Something with triceps, and dipping off of a bench.

Right after I got done my first round, when I'd normally get a break, Dee says 'Ok do push ups now'.

I ask him 'Now?' with my eyes and he points to the floor. I whine in my head, a lot. Then obey.

I do the push ups and he, I think he may have encouraged along the way. I can't remember I was hating him a lot then.

We do the magic number of sets again and he tells me the end is near.

Oh wait somewhere in there he made me do three sets of 15 wild turkey jumps all bendier, lower and faster than usual. Yeah, I thought my form was improving until he began to get all picky with form.

At some point during a break I begin to think about how many more sessions I have with Dee. A lot. Yikes.

He clearly has a radar on my thoughts and says 'You're probably thinking about the fact that you still have so many sessions to go and that you can't wait to be done right?' I hate that he is right but decide to mention my fear of going at it alone. He tells me that I won't be rid of him that easily and I feel better.

Ok onto the home stretch now. He pulls the wild turkey jump platform (the step up step thingy) up to the bench I used for my original step ups and tells me I'm going to do planks. I shoot him an 'Is this harder than regular planks?' look and he just says 'Get down there'.

I put my elbows on the bench, my toes on the stepper ma jig and try to straighten what used to be my body but currently seems to be a noodle out in mid air. Then, I hold tight. Dee sits down on the bench beside me. Yacking my ear off while I give him the silent treatment trying to concentrate. There is a delightful slightly passed middle aged woman using the weights in front of me. I over hear them having a conversation with their eyes about me.

After a while I say 'Can I stop?' Dee says 'No'. I ask again 'Can I please stop?' Dee says 'Keep holding'. Eventually I disregard him and let go. Allowing my noodle body to slither to the floor. I fear the wrath of Dee.

Instead he says 'Wow! What happened to the ten second planks you used to do? Good job!'

Rather than being ecstatic with his praise I want to punch him in the face for misleading me.

He makes me do another one. Even after the delightful lady pleaded with him to give me a break and told me (in the sweetest, kindest voice ever) 'Sometimes these trainers can be so mean, can't they?' To which I respond with 'Sometimes?'

I re-plank and Dee begins to talk 'I'd say your upper body has improved the most' (in my mind I completely disagree, but he continued). 'You have shoulder blades now!' (Geez man thanks, I guess). 'Your back muscles are defined' (Sorry dude, cant' really see that from where I sit). 'You have curves in the right places now' (Please Dee, go on). 'What does it feel like to have a nice ass now?' (To which I replied 'I don't yet, it's just smaller').

I finally break my plank (in more ways than one) and Dee pats me on the back and states: 'Great workout today! Your best one yet! Usually it's pukeville when upper and lower body are mixed, you did awesome!'

I looked at him and said 'Really? I always feel like I could've done better. Oh and I almost did puke near the beginning.'

He smiles at me and asks when he sees me again. Then adds 'It must've been a good workout - look, you have boob sweat!'

I look down and indeed see my 'boob sweat' then leave without another look in his direction.

23 more to go...

My cheatin' heart

Yesterday I woke up in a great mood. That was until I stepped on the scale.

I am only supposed to weigh in once a week. Last week was the first one I had actually followed the 'rule'. Mostly because Dee asks me every time I see him what my weight is at and so I always make sure to tell him. He's also the one that told me I should only weigh in once a week. He's clearly getting old.

I've noticed lately my focus changing a bit. A couple of weeks ago Dee told me I could have one 'cheat' meal a week. This meal would include whatever I wanted for one meal. This also meant a beverage of choice and a dessert.

Before this institution I had trained myself to order healthy stuff on the menu: salad instead of fries, baked instead of fried, veggies instead of starch. I was actually doing very well with this method. I was still able to go out to a restaurant once in a while and I was learning how to deal with this great temptation responsibly.

Going out was still a treat but a healthy one at that. There was no cheating.

I had come a long way actually. I was ordering frozen yogurt rather than ice cream and I didn't feel the pressure to be the judge of whether I could use 'this time' out as a 'cheat'. My motives were clear and trustworthy. That is until the proverbial 'cheat' meal was instituted.

Once Dee gave me permission (as I saw it) to cheat my already impaired judgment become even more disabled.

You're probably wondering how. He laid out the guidelines fairly clearly. Any normal human being would have no problem with this but not me ladies and gentlemen. Not me.

I was asked by a friend the other day why I had placed such lofty goals on myself in the area of my health. It's true, when you tell the average person you are trying to get to 19% body fat they probably do wonder why when you are at a healthy and acceptable weight the way your are.

I thought I'd explained it here but just in case there are others that are wondering maybe I'll give it another whirl.

I know that it doesn't matter how skinny anyone gets, unless they change how they see themselves they will never be 'different'. I grew up seeing myself as fat, unacceptable, and weak all of my life. With good reason. I was fat, people definitely didn't accept me, and physically I was weak.

Since my younger years I have developed a confidence and a fierceness that has ignited a fire within. I fire to go after what I've never had before. What I've never believed possible. I still wonder sometimes if everything I run after is possible.

A few months ago I signed up for training. I told Dee straight away I had no ridiculous ideas that I would become bikini clad or anything of the sort. I had realistic expectations of wanting a healthy, strong body. I also wanted to develop a confidence in the gym that I knew what I was doing so that when the sessions were over I could strive for healthy living for the rest of my life.

Initially my goals were to show up to every session, do what Dee told me to do, and be accountable to him. (I also secretly hoped to get rid of my binging problem too - I was definitely a sugar addict).

After many a conversations with him about his own story and many of those he trained. I realized that the only thing holding me back from going for the gusto of having the best body I could have (without becoming a body builder) is the belief that I could do it.

I have to admit the best incentive I could ever find in life is someone telling me 'you'll never be able to do that'. Well, someone was saying those words to me. Loudly. Clearly. Mockingly. And I would no longer have it.

I decided that I was going to trust Dee and do everything he told me to do. I also had to share with him my secret hope of getting a bikini clad body (even though I had no plans on entering public with that little of material on my body).

Talk about humbling. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would admit this to myself let alone a former pro wrestler, over tanned, muscle bound man.

But I did. I told him I wanted to be that. Not just for the 'skinny' but for everything. For the strength, for the confidence, for glory, and yes also for the 'skinny', though I'll admit it really isn't the main reason. Trust me there are days I'd rather starve myself that eat what's on my menu.

More than anything I want to prove to the person that keeps telling me 'You'll never be able to do that' they are so wrong it's not funny.

That is my biggest incentive ever.

And so when I wake up and my day goes downward due to the fact that it looks like my weight has gone on a hike up Mt. Everest. I have to remind myself I can and I will.

Dee reminds me often that I don't need to always believe in myself but that he will do it for me. He keeps telling me to trust him and the process (oh and accept, accept, accept that this is how you get healthy).

So after a depressing yesterday in this area of my life, I am ready for a renewed today. I am saying good bye to the proverbial cheat meal and I'm going to stop looking for ways to get out of making healthy choices. Instead I shall go through my day looking for ways to stay true to myself and my goals.

Oh yeah, and to that person that keeps telling me I can't do it ... yes I can.

And I will.

(Sometimes telling yourself off is necessary).