Tonight was a doozy. I know I’ve written before about how much you need to have a connection with your Personal Trainer if you have one, but I can’t seem to stress it enough. If you want results, you need to hire one – man or woman – that you connect with and that can push you on levels you never even imagined. Mr. Trainer knows the mental struggle that comes along with this journey. I know I’m not the first he’s been through it with, but we’re also friends so he has an additional insight into the nutso psyche that I can exhibit.
I’ve made it SO FAR. And I’m proud of how far I’ve come – but it’s hard to explain how scary it is to think of how much further I could go. I know it seems weird to people, but that’s the only way I can explain it. I’ve never been athletic or a “perfect” size. I’ve just always been me – a klutz with a size….or two…or three….larger than everyone else. It’s a comfort zone that you get used to – and can actually learn to be successful and “happy in.” This is what I’m struggling to push through. I do not know this new person I'm trying to become. I've never met her and it freaks me out.
Tonight, Mr. Trainer did some serious pushing for me.
So, we’ve been dealing with a pulled back muscle that occurred last week while doing deadlifts. The last couple of sessions have been filled with a lot of stretching, foam rolling, and ridiculous yoga-like moves for all to witness the glory. Seriously – it’s completely embarrassing, but it helps a lot.
This evening we began with about 15 minutes of stretching and not nearly as severe of pain that I had been experiencing when Mr. Trainer announced that I would probably hate him by then end of the night but it’s time we step it up….AGAIN.
We then proceed to go upstairs to the track:
Mr. Trainer: “When was the last time you ran?”
Me: “Ummmm…….pretty sure it was Jr. High gym class. There was a mild sprint towards a hill a few weeks ago though….nevermind.”
Mr. Trainer: “Seriously?”
Me: “Yes. Serious. Don’t do what I think you’re about to do. Just don’t. I’ll do millions of Burpees, plank push-ups, and squats if you just don’t say what I KNOW you are about to.”
Mr. Trainer: “Look princess – 9 months have led us to this and you’re more than ready for it. Give me one lap – just one for now. Do NOT start calculating in that brain of yours, you think entirely too much for just one person – just go.”
Side note: Y’all…..the track of this gym has an open center……to the floor below. So, at every angle….SOMEONE is watching the poor goob that is running/walking/lunging on the track above. I do it too – when I’m downstairs, it gives me someone to feel sorry for that they are probably suffering more than me. And, at this very moment in time I strongly considered telling him where to stick it and walking out. That’s how deep the resentment to running goes.
Me: “Can’t I just run some stairs, or do the stairmaster, anything else?”
Mr. Trainer: (Grabs my shoulders and puts me square in front of him) “Look at me. You’ve lost the equivalent amount of weight to about a 1st - probably a 2nd grader.....60 pounds? Please. We’ve hit a wall. You’ve reached a point to where everything left is the really good stuff and you will get there so help me. It’s this – or us just enjoying each others company for 3 hours a week. That, we can and do without you having to pay me for these sessions. Suck it up and start running.”
Me: “Well, you don’t have to be sassy about it.”
So, I ran and completed the first lap. Wheezing and pretty sure I was going to die he then has the nerve to say:
Mr. Trainer: “Again, two laps this time……and shut it. Just go.”
Now I’m wondering what bug crawled up his very toned behind and just hoping I make it without losing my lunch. But I did it and the world did not end.
THEN……….he has the ever-loving gall to say:
Mr. Trainer: “One more time – 3 laps.”
And at this point, I’m just plain mad at him and seriously considering the conversation that I will surely have with his girlfriend on why she didn’t give him a hug that morning.
So, I make it through lap 1. Ok, I’ve got this. The end is nearing – just get me through the next. As I finish lap 2 – I see Mr. Trainer standing with MJ and Blaine at the “finish” – they’re all just standing there with their usual smirky pretty selves and probably discussing how ridiculous the client looks running to absolutely nowhere and heaving like she should probably have an oxygen tank strapped to her……and so begins lap 3.
I make it about ¼ way through and I’m so absolutely done, I can’t take it. I semi stumble and stop for just a second to catch my breath when I hear a yell from the other side…..
Mr. Trainer, MJ, and Blaine (it’s all coming from different places so not sure who said what): “Come on, princess – pick those feet up and MOVE.” “One foot in front of the other.” “You’ve got this.”
I’m halfway home and rounding the last corner. I can see Mr. Trainer and crew standing at the finish yelling like mad men. I’m pretty sure my heart will give out in the last seconds like some dramatic movie and faintly recall what they might say at my funeral.
And I finish.
I can’t even speak at this point and am wondering if hearts really do somehow beat out of chests…..and dear Lord where is the air I need to breathe?
Then MJ and Blaine slink off to wherever they go when they’re not training and Mr. Trainer gives me a high five, pats my back and says…..
“Now, are we going to finish this or what?”
And at that moment I knew he wasn’t speaking about the workout – he was speaking of what haunts me the most……am I going to finish this or just let myself be minimally proud of the halfway point to where I’ve made it.
“Damn, right we are. Just watch me.”