Tonight was my appointment for my free personal training session at the gym. Yes, I kept the appointment. And you know what? I'm glad I did. Though, there were several points in the relatively short session that I wished to fucking Christ I hadn't. Holy Jesus. She kicked my motherfucking ass. I thought I was getting into decent shape? HA! Hahahahahahahahahahaha.
First of all, my asthma is very much alive and well. It's been a very long time since I really, really needed my inhaler. But man, I needed it tonight. I needed it after running a couple of laps around the track upstairs. Yes, you read that right. She got me to run. I don't run. Except I did tonight. It wasn't terrible, aside from the not-being-able-to-breathe part. I'm so glad I bought that bra. And I'm glad I finally put it to a real test.
Despite the fact that she really pushed me -- I mean, she really pushed me -- I didn't punk out. Well, I had to give up halfway through my side plank ab work on the right side because of my stupid shoulder. But I did everything she told me to and I did it as hard and fast as I could. It was definitely a short, intense blast of a workout. Not a lot of reps of anything -- just a short, fast set and a quick move on to the next thing. I briefly considered puking afterward.
I was pleasantly surprised to have her not pressure me for training sessions. She did offer up the small group thing she does, which is considerably less expensive, but I still don't know that I have $249 to spend on 10 sessions. She did say she thought I'd fit into the group very well (of course I would, as long as I can pay for it!). And I was as honest with her as I could be about what I'm doing now and she seemed to think I was on the right track. I guess if I'm dropping about two pounds a week, I'm on the right track.
She's totally not as irritating as I thought she'd be, either. Damn me and my judginess! She was pretty good with the motivation -- "Come on. You're doing great. Nice form! I wish I was as flexible as you." Oh yeah, she totally stretched my legs out afterward. She did say my name a few too many times. I don't know why that annoys me, but it does. Probably because it feels like the person saying my name is either trying to gain my trust and/or sell me something.
So, I'm glad I went. It didn't take too after for the wanting to die/puke to go away to be replaced by the awesomeness (and soreness). She did give me some good ideas. I'm definitely adding interval training to my cardio and I probably will be doing some free weights and balance/instability ball work. Did I really just type all that? Christ.
I totally told her that I'm bad about eating when I come home from the gym. I know I should, but I'm not hungry most of the time. Guess what I'm not doing tonight? Dammit. She seemed to think I might not be getting enough protein. My lunches of veggie burgers prompted her to ask if I was something of a vegetarian. Hahahahahahahahahahahahah. Oh, that's a good one. I should probably defrost some bacon, huh?
Oh! In the training room, the trainer who would be totally hot, but there is just something off about him except when he has a beard, was all, "Those are sweet kicks. Are they new?" And I was like, "What? Are you talking to me?" No, they really aren't that new and how the fuck would you know if they were or not? I mean, other than the fact that they're not dirty or worn-looking. Also, I hate them because they're pink. Word of advice, dude: you should grow that beard back and keep your mouth shut. Seriously.