This past weekend, I decided that I finally
needed to do something about the fact that ALL of my jeans are way way WAY too tight and that even when I do finally get them buttoned, all I want to do is unbutton them so that I can breeeeeeeeeeeeath. So when Scott, one of my boyfriend's best friends, who also happens to be one of the top personal trainers in H-Town, called me to ask me if I was ever
going to get off of my big jello-ass and start working out with him, I finally took the plunge and said yes. Luckily for Scott, he just so happened to call at the exact moment when I was trying to suck in my muffin-top of a stomach so that I could squeeze into my jeans. And right when I said outloud to myself, "I'M TIRED OF BEING FAT!" he called.
Soooooooooooooooo, because I look like Winnie the Pooh, walking around in t-shirts that are too tight and too small around the middle, I made a commitment and told Scott that I would meet up with him, at his gym, at 7pm for an initial training session. And because my boyfriend looks like he's about 4 months pregnant, with twins, I made him come too. (Actually, I love love love his Buddah-Belly...he wanted to come on his own.)
Well, Scott talked us through his "warm-up" routine and by the time that boyfriend and I were done with our hundreth, er...I mean tenth squat, my legs turned to J-E-L-L-O, and I fell onto the floor, having lost all the strength needed to support my big, round, fat-bastard, belly.
But Scott didn't become one of the best trainers in Houston, by letting his clients give up, so he kept pushing and pushing and pushing, until boyfriend and I managed to push out some push-ups, sit-ups, lunges, jumps, jumping-jacks, pull-ups, more squats, kicks, and he even got me to do some rowing on that little row machine thingy. Of course, by time we got to that part, my leg bones and muscles had disinegrated into dust, leaving me unable to do much. We won't talk about the part where boyfriend had to run outside to throw up because he worked himself out a little too hard. Well, maybe it wasn't the workout, but the fact that boyfriend and I are the laziest bums to ever roam the earth and neither of us have even bothered to think about exercise in at least 2 years. We get tired and winded just watching
people run. Needless to say, we are, what doctors call, "a wee-bit out of shape."
Did I mention that we only did the "warm-up?"
Today, I have 0% use of my legs. I can't even step on and off the curb.
We go back on Monday.
Labels: Let's get physical
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