First off, Gail, your book really is coming! I promise! Although I’m still waiting for that meatloaf sandwich for breakfast.
Back to the torture chamber aka the gym. Let’s get this straight. I’m not a fan of exercise, sweat, or hurting myself. I think endorphins are a big lie. Or, they seem to be a big lie for me. And I trained for and walked a half-marathon a few years ago, so I had plenty of opportunity to feel those so-called endorphins.
All that said, I have a sedentary career and must get off my backside and just move a little more. There was a deal at my husband’s gym, so he joined for me at the end of November. But I was on deadline until mid-January, so I didn’t even GO peek at the place. I peeked last week. Literally walked into the gym and looked at the machines and big screen tvs and the torture exercise equipment, also glanced at the pool. I left before even going to the second floor. Others mocked me, but I considered this an important step.
I get three complimentary session with a trainer. After my first two, I’ve concluded that I would have to be into S&M to engage the services of a trainer. Do you know it’s more expensive to have one session with a trainer than to visit the dentist or dermatologist? And your teeth aren’t clean after leaving the gym. Just sayin’. Trainers appear to WANT you to feel pain. I already know that if I’m in pain then I’m not going to exercise. I need to go v-e-r-y slowly. The first day I was assessed. BMI was okay, everything else was crap, especially my body fat percentage. Hey, I’ve always told people I have an inner fat chick screaming to get out. Unfortunately, she’s made some progress during the last few years. During the second session with the trainer, I was put on an elliptical, ski machine, two bikes, and a full resistance training circuit. After that, I got on a treadmill and watched a morning show while I sweated.
I took a break today and will try to go back and do “something” tomorrow or Friday. This fitness stuff is not my fave at all, but I have to give it a good try. (I still haven’t made it up to the second floor. I’m chicken.) Are you doing any exercise stuff? What works for you? Do you experience endorphins? Or do you think they are a big fat lie?
Leanne, who would much rather be sitting on a Caribbean beach sipping “Cayman Lemonade”. How to make it? 1.5 oz vodka, 1 oz. light rum, 1 oz. Peach Schnapps, 4 oz. sweet and sour mix, 2 oz. cranberry juice. Fill a highball glass half full of ice, add everything and stir. It’s pink and will help you forget all about that nasty exercise trainer!