Working Out How I'm Working Out

I was offered a free session with a personal trainer at my gym this week and decided to go for it. Mostly because I knew this guy wasn't going to let me not do it. For months Steve kept telling me he'd love to work out with me and help me out. This was either the nicest of compliments or the biggest of insults. I prefer to believe the former.
Like most people who go to the gym, I have my little routine, accent on the little. A few years ago I was a complete gym rat - there 5-6 days a week. Three aerobics classes a week, weights, elliptical trainer, treadmill...I was dedicated. And a little nuts. I actually kind of burned myself out - mentally and physically. And then I went the other extreme and became a slacker. My goal has been to find the happy medium - not easy to do in a sweat-filled space surrounded by folks who like me, never think good enough is actually good enough. But, I've fallen into doing my thirty minutes of cardio at a respectable - read not super challenging - pace, some weights, a little yoga and I'm done. So, I decided switching it up and challenging myself might not be a bad thing. Especially since I've noticed my little muffin-top on my jeans growing into more of a bundt-cake.

Thursday was the day. Steve told me to be there at 8:30. I have to admit I arrived at 8:40. I had a deadline damn it! As I drove there I admit I felt nervous, I wasn't ready to look like Jennifer Beals in "Flashdance." I liked my little comfortable routine. It wasn't particularly challenging, but it worked. Sort of.

Steve went over what limits I might have (thankfully we didn't get into the psychological ones). There were the knees that aren't wonderful, a lower back that gets tweaked, and a right shoulder that has been impacted by too many hours straining toward a computer mouse. As I listened to myself I sounded like a wreck.

He asked me what I did for legs. Um, nothing? So we did some squats, done in a way to protect my knees. We did upper body and some abs. And I was doing okay. It wasn't horrible, I was actually having fun. I'd started off looking at the clock thinking 50 minutes sounded like a lifetime, but it was flying by.

There were several advantages to working out with Steve. One, he's really cute, so that was a nice distraction. Two, he'd get things for me. I needed a different weight? He was right on it. In my real life no one fetches anything for me, so this was a real treat. Three - he made me do more than I would have on my own. We all know how easy it is to let ourselves off the hook and slack off. Why do twenty when 15 was easier? And lastly, it was a fun distraction, when we were talking about movies those tricep dips didn't hurt nearly as much.

By the afternoon I could feel a little soreness setting in - mostly in my butt from those squats. When I woke up on Friday morning and slipped my favorite sweater on I was made newly aware of my pectoral muscles. But in a good way.

I went to the gym Friday morning, did my thirty on the treadmill, but I upped the incline! And I even did some more squats and a couple of the other exercises Steve had shown me. I didn't push myself as much as he did, but I had upped the ante a little.

Steve said he wants to work me out again, and if he wants to, who am I to say no? Who knows what fire he might light under me.

And there is another added bonus -While I'm spending all my time trying to get my novel finished and writing for the paper, it's about as close to a date as I'm going to get. Hey, whatever it takes to get me through that third set...