In Training

You know the saying that doctors make the worst patients?

Well, apparently personal trainers make for bad clients.

Recently, in a quest to gain back my pre-baby body (or maybe it was after my brush with the foundation garment lady ), I decided to suck it up and join a gym.  Previously, I have never had to actually pay money to a gym to workout, because usually I was working for them, and one of the perks of gym employment is a free membership.  But, when Miss El made her debut, my previous schedule no longer fit my family schedule.  I figured out that to work at the gym, I was going to have to hire a sitter that could watch a newborn, make and feed lunch to the older kiddies, drive E to preschool, and then drive Ab to elementary school.  In short, it was going to cost me more to hire a qualified sitter than I would have actually made at the gym teaching classes and training clients.  So, being fiscally responsible (and more than a little slack), I decided to put that part of my life on hold for the time being, theorizing that since I knew what to do to be fit that I would actually do it.  

Unfortunately, ahem, that was just not the case.

So, swallowing my pride, I forked over my cash and for the last four weeks, I have been diligently working out.  I have sweat through my tees and been so sore that I almost cried when I remembered that I forgot my sunglasses in my upstairs bedroom and I realized that I would have to climb back up the stairs to retrieve them.  Today was my one month mark, and  I was excited to meet with my fellow trainer to see my results.

So, are you ready for them?  I sure wasn't!

Since my four weeks of diligence . . .I am plus 1.5 pounds and up 1 percent body fat.  

So, obviously, while I make a pretty good trainer, I do not make a very good client.

When I confessed to my trainer about my penchant for Krispy Kreme donuts (Five?!  Did I actually eat five that day??),  bacon and pancakes for dinner, and whole bags of Dove chocolates (Did I really just write a whole bag?),  he stared his Superman stare straight through me to see if I was just teasing him. He eyeballed me like that, and I hadn't even told him about my beer and chicken wing cravings.   When I assured him that I was completely serious, he said, "Well Annie.  Let me see . . . Duh!!  You have to work out AND eat better."  Unfortunately, he was absolutely right.

I do have to eat better AND exercise to see results. 

I was just hoping that the rules didn't apply to me, and it appears that they do.

So goodbye Krispie Kreme, farewell bacon, auf wiedersen Dove chocolates.

I will miss you.

Note: Highlighted words are links to previous posts!:)