In reviewing my sad, neglected blog, I realized that I made an initial fitness post, an update a month later, and then completely forgot I was blogging about it. Now it’s been over two years.
I am happy to report that I still lift three times a week. I have embraced weights with an enthusiasm I did not know I possessed. Here are some of the fitnessy things I’ve done in the past two years.
ME: I don’t subscribe to this whole gluten-free fad, it doesn’t make sense unless you have Celiac disease. I don’t believe in any fad diets. Blah blah blah.
TRAINER: So based on your body type, food history/food diary/symptoms, etc. your enemies are wheat and dairy.
TRAINER: Don’t eliminate, replace. You can have rice pasta and almond milk. Also, you should avoid potatoes and replace them with yams.
TRAINER: And here are eleventy billion vitamins you should take.
ME:…did you say no wheat?
TRAINER: You’ll feel better, trust me.
ME: WHY IS THIS HAPPENING
He was right, though. My stomach no longer seems to hate me. The no dairy thing is fine because I’ve never liked milk anyway and milk is delicious, but my previous diet basically consisted of pasta and bread and now I’m eating beef and more beef, jeesh.
TRAINER: You need to eat more red meat.
ME: Red meat? They make that?
TRAINER: Start having three eggs for breakfast, and eventually add 100g of roast beef to that.
TRAINER: If you find it difficult to get protein at lunch, you can have a protein shake.
ME: Oh! I can do that. I have some hemp protein at home.
TRAINER: No, beef protein.
ME: …why is that a thing.
Recently I’ve started going to the gym. By recently, I mean my first gym day was last Tuesday. I’ll be going two to three times a week, and my boss recommended a personal trainer. The trainer is amazing and uses plenty of metaphors. Last week I learned that taking care of my body is taking care of a small village in which there is only one well.
Losing weight isn’t my end goal, though that would be nice. Hopefully proper weight training will take care of, as the trainer calls them, my “aches and pains.” I have been in shape exactly 0% of my life and all of this fitness crap has always been more theory than reality.
On Tuesday we did lower body. My trainer is very reassuring; “At first you go slow, so that you don’t hurt yourself. You know you can do it, but you shouldn’t push yourself. Yet.” I thought “This isn’t so bad.” Until the next day when I rolled out of bed and why does it feel like someone punched me in the gut??
In high school, gym was when boys whipped top-speed dodgeballs at my boobs and marks were based on performance instead of effort. Many years later, I think I’ve finally moved past my fear of exercise; maybe this time I’ll make it.
I look forward to the day I can lift more than my 7 pound dog without hurting myself.