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Saturday, July 3, 2010

". . . and right here is where you start paying . . .in sweat"

    Up until this week I'd never given much thought to the popular gym rat phrase "feel the burn".  I guess I forgot that it is very much a literal phrase.  But I am getting ahead of myself.  Let me back track to week one, the genesis of my training experience and the first trainer up: Larry from the North Ridge location.

     Larry is this laid back guy with a hint of a New York accent who has this amazing ability to make everyone he's around feel hilarious. Not just funny. . . hilarious.  He likes to laugh and after a few minutes with him, it's easy to feel that you're ready for amateur night at the comedy club a headlining show in Vegas.  At the beginning of our first session, Larry explained to me that we were going to break our sessions up into 2 lower body sessions and 2 upper body sessions.  Ummmm. . . . what? That makes FOUR!!! FOUR SESSIONS?!?!?!?! The butterflies in my stomach instantly go ballistic. My first instinct was to whine with a tone that would have had even Fran Drescher plugging her ears.  What have I gotten myself into? 

  Larry's strategy is to go from exercise to exercise no break and mixing in some laps around the track, jumping jacks or the bike (my new nemesis) to keep the heart rate up.  The philosophy is to give yourself an aerobic workout while working on your strength at the same time.  I had always been one of those people who lollygagged (fabulous word by the way, greatly underused if you ask me) around from weight machine to weight machine in the gym.  I thought aerobics classes and treadmills were the only way to work up a sweat.  Clearly, I was mistaken.  Not only was I sweating (like EWWW!) and breathing hard, but my muscles were quivering, muscles I didn't even know existed! This was a workout and a half! And all in 45 minutes.  Forty-five minutes.  That's all it would have taken per day to keep me from being as out of shape as I am now.  Of all the hours that I've spent mindlessly watching bad reality tv or checking Facebook, less than one hour per day could have kept the cottage cheese from the FRONT of my thighs (laugh now teenage girls but cellulite can indeed make it's way to the FRONT of your thighs if you don't stay active. Laugh on THAT!)

  Every time I thought I that one more rep was impossible, it was onto the next exercise.  Between you and me, it was (dare I say it) fun.  I had a trainer years ago that kind of scared me off of trainers for a long time.  He was cool but he took me from machine to machine and that was it.  I thought, "What the hell am I paying you for? I could do this on my own!"  Larry's workouts were different.  I've literally never seen exercises like the ones he used in my circuit. Monotony is one of the reasons I stopped going to the gym in the first place.  Larry is just the guy to reintroduce me to the gym.  His sessions were quite the opposite of boring. He's kinda like the McGuyver of trainers. Remember the slide? The one that made it's way into aerobics classes in the mid-late 90s and then vanished along with mini-backpacks and ck One cologne. Larry had me on that slide doing things that probably aren't even done in NFL camps. I have officially renamed it the deathtrap.  One minute on "the deathtrap" and you will swear you hear the voice of Debbie Allen screaming at you, "You got big dreams?? You want fame? Well fame costs, and right here is where you start paying . . . in sweat!"

 Have I mentioned the ab work yet? No??  Hahahaha. . . Ouch . . . it hurts to laugh. In a nutshell, oh yeah did we do some abs.  The entire time, no matter the exercise, Larry makes me aware of pulling in my core muscles.  Ha-Ha, muffin top!! You are about to go the way of the dodo bird!

 I have not worked this hard in a LONG time.  There's absolutely no beating around the bush: The first week back to the gym is hard.  It's really hard.  But it's also so rewarding. Feeling muscles that haven't had to lift anything (except a fork with food to my mouth) in a long time means I'm doing something right. 

 I made it.  I survived.  I feel as though I should get one of the t-shirts that one of Larry's other clients sports that says: "Body by Evil Larry" (not kidding).  My body has been pushed to the limit. My body has been given a jumpstart and Larry was the jumper cables.  I'd give him a High 5, but I can't lift my arms. Low 5's from here on out.

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