Conversations with Mr. Trainer: Victory WILL be mine!

So Mr. Trainer went on vacay last week which meant that I didn’t have someone waiting for me 3 out of those 7 days to actually show up and work out. 

For the first time in NINE WHOLE MONTHS.  That's an accomplishment in itself and I'm grateful for it.

I was nervous…..like a totally irrational nervousness that I just wouldn’t go in at all.  Because NO ONE WOULD KNOW.  Absolutely no one.  Except for me. 

I’ve mentioned I’m a people pleaser……and I ain’t joking.

Now, I have gotten so much better at doing cardio on my “off” training days – but even if I don’t have training, he’s still there at the gym.  And he notices if he doesn’t see me show up on those “off” days. 

I need this accountability.  It’s the entire reason I hired a trainer in the first place…I’ll show up for other people….but hardly ever for myself.  This has been true in so many ways and in so many aspects of my life that I know it can’t all be fixed at once….but it is getting better.

It’s a character flaw that in the last year I recognize and remain very hyper-aware of….even when it sneaks up sometimes and flat pisses me off.  This is a very good thing that I can now recognize it, and though I don’t always self-correct, at least I’m getting better at acknowledging when I do or do not make choices that will better my life.

So last week began and I had a little talk with myself to just go the first day.  Just one day.  That was all I needed to worry about at that moment. 

So, I went….and it turns out his other clients were there too….and happened to walk by the elliptical with a wave or fist bump for me.  It was a camaraderie like “Hey!  We’re leaderless this week, but we’re doing the hard work anyway, for no one except for ourselves.”  I can honestly say I adore the little gym home I have.  It’s not the scary intimidating place I walked into 9 months ago – it’s now a safe haven….and I love that.

And I went in the next, then made it to 3, then to 4 and then all the sudden we’re back to Tuesday….my normal first training day of the week………..and when Mr. Trainer did the rundown of how things were?  “How’s the back?  What’s your body doing?  How’s the diet?  And, did you miss me?  I missed you!”

Me: “I missed you terribly, of course.  And I was terrified of being alone with just me for the first time in 9 months.  You know how scary it gets in my head without you there for me to purge on a regular basis….But you know what?”

Mr. Trainer:  “Oh yes, I do…..please tell me you did ok.  What is it?”

Me:  “That plateau I’ve been standing on for two months…..took a mother-loving deep dive into the hell it belongs…..down 4 pounds.  And THAT was me.  All me.  So give me your lunges, squats, and burpees…..whatever you can shove down your pie-hole sweet cheeks…..we’ve got this.”

And then we laughed and fist-bumped and hugged and did our most embarrassing touchdown dance.

Victory is so, so, sweet and as long as I continue to show up for me as much as I show up for others there’s nothing that can stop me.  Believe that.

Unexpected Encounters in an Elevator

So, I’m completely exhausted.  I’ve been doing morning and evening workouts to hopefully jumpstart the weightloss again….I will say that after each one it does leave a sense of fantastic accomplishment and a spurt of energy…..but at the end of the day it also leaves me depleted – and I’m forever hungry – All.The.Time.  (And don’t start…..trust me….I’m stuffing my face with all the things I’m supposed to and upping the calories, promise.)

Anyways, tonight’s post is a reminder of why I’m doing this.  During tonight’s training session, Mr. Trainer and I seemed to always workout next to a very fit older gentleman that well……it was obvious he didn’t bat for my team.  He smiled a few times – and conversed a little with Mr. Trainer throughout.

After the workout, I was on the high and made it to the elevator with said other guy already in there with the door closing.  He quickly held the doors open so I could make it in.  Both of us, dripping with sweat – smelling fabulous, I’m sure – he said:

Fab guy: “Man, you never want to come here do you?  But, after you get it done you feel so great that you did it anyways.  The things we have to do to look good!”

Me: (Still out of breath) “Yep- well, I’m not at that part yet, but I really like the feeling great after.”

So, we exit the elevator and go through the glass doors of the sky rise….and I’m a few steps ahead of him and open the door to the next set of doors.  We then proceed to the stairway to the parking garage (I’ve been trained to take the stairs…..even when no one is looking, dang it.)  And, I open those doors with Fab guy trailing me.

Fab guy:  “You’re staying two steps ahead of me!  I’m supposed to open the doors…..my mama raised me right, you know.”

Me:  “Ha, I’m sorry, I guess my heart rate just hasn’t slowed down enough.”

Then we get to the bottom of the stairs to the next set of doors…..

Fab guy: “Stop now, let me do this.”  And he opens the door for me….

Me:  I smile…. “Well, thank you.  I’m MoFabulous by the way.”

Fab guy: “Mofabulous, it’s nice to meet you.  I’m Rick, you worked so hard out there tonight – I always snoop everywhere and only speak to people who I think are deemed worthy, so you know.”

Me:  “Ha, I hope so!  Thanks again….have a good week.”  And I then proceed to my car.

Rick: “Hey Mofabulous?   Wait a second.  I saw you several months ago and I think you’re wrong about the just feeling great part earlier……you are looking good too – those of our choices pay particular attention to these things (just don’t tell)….and if you FINALLY flash that smile every once in a while one might just reconsider if they want to switch sides.  Lord knows if I could – there are plenty of them in there I would choose from."

And, then – he left me right there.  Mouth gaping….then hysterically laughing.  Sent from up above, I tell you.  He managed to kick me in the behind while complimenting me at the same time.

Also……I now consider him my new best friend.

Progress people = WOOT! 

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: Tonight I ran. It wasn't terrible.

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 1^st  - 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. 

My reply?

“Damn, right we are.  Just watch me.”

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: You never know how much you needed something until it's there

Growing up, there were certain things that came easy to me.

I was a better than average student, though not excellent, but I realized very quickly I could get pretty good grades without having to work too hard.  This was excellent news as I will (still to this day) go nuts if I’m told to sit in a room and study something just because someone else thinks it’s good for me. 

I began piano lessons the summer before second grade with a teacher that had a long waitlist to become one of her students.  So, when she had an opening and I was next on the list I began lessons with her……even when just 2 weeks prior, I had broken my wrist and was in a cast.  I learned about musical theory, was able to identify notes just by sound, and went on to study with her for close to 10 years where I won State Competitions every year except for 1.  That 1 was a fluke – and I was robbed, I tell you.

My parents let me take art classes during the summer and it was discovered that my oil painting wasn’t too shabby.  I remember doing the assigned painting of Victoria Falls on Saturday afternoon in a back room at Michaels and my mother took me to show it to my Grandparents.  And, I distinctly remember proudly showing it to my Granddaddy who met me at the door of their home and the look in his eyes when he saw it.  It was one of surprise and pure pleasure……and gave me so much excitement to see.

I was in band throughout middle school and high school.  Always trading out first chair week after week with two other girls who shall remain nameless.  (Ahem….you know who you are)  On one particular day, I was asked to do the chromatic scale on the Clarinet, and after I finished I remember the very difficult to please Band Director whom I suspected never really liked me because, well, I had an even bigger mouth back then, say, “Hmmm…..who knew those short stubby fingers could do something like that?”  I proceeded to give him my best smirk – which was my way of saying – “That’s right!  I know you like these other two better, and I’m fully aware I don’t have the hands of an excellent musician…… but I WILL rock this and show you where you can shove it.”

All of these things also add to the reason of why I’m also such a people pleaser.  I have a smart mouth, talk a big talk, but if I can make someone be proud of me….or force them to compliment me even when they don’t want to…..I still get giddy inside.

Now, I’m not telling you all this to brag or be boastful……..I’m telling you to show a stark contrast to how much of a struggle it is to conquer things that absolutely do not come naturally to me.

I was NEVER good at sports or anything having to do with athletic coordination.  I loathed gym class….even more hated dodgeball day…..and when it came to summer camp when most of the people were out during free rec time doing actual recreation?  NOPE.  Not me.  No way, no how.  (Luckily I had the sense to have like minded friends.)

So, tonight, when we had this episode of Conversations with Mr. Trainer……I couldn’t help but want to do a happy dance.  This new stage of my life is a LOT of hard work, failures, tiny wins, and pure determination that is hard to come by even on the best days.

 Mr. Trainer is always encouraging and never fails to miss an opportunity to do it, but we’ve also hit a point of frustration with this process, and he knows it’s part of the gig to be honest with me about it.  The dang scale has NOT MOVED a centimeter in a couple of months and we both have our opinions on why, but his are much simpler than mine of course.  And, while being an encourager and excellent coach – he doesn’t hand out superfluous compliments.  Which, with my Type AAA personality added with the need to please can be even more frustrating to say the least. 

So, he’s decided to change things up………A LOT.

A few months ago, he decided it would be fun to watch me do squats on a Bosu ball.  Don’t know what that is?  Take a look!

It’s a ball that when you flip it……..then stand on it……..it takes every ounce of your being to not fall of the dreaded thing, much less do a squat on it.

It was AWFUL.  He held on to me the entire time and it sucked eggs.  Truly.

Tonight – he decided it was high time to try it again.  And amazingly, I did about ¾ of them without having to hold on to him like my very life depended on it.

Mr. Trainer:  “Well, look at that.  Even I didn’t know it could be possible!”

Me: “Thanks so much for your faith you weasel.”

Mr. Trainer: “That’s what I’m here for.”

So, the evening continued and the deadlift portion of the program began.  I’ve mentioned before that I really do like deadlifts.   Man, they are ROUGH - but they strangely make you feel a little powerful….like my completely non-athletic body can actually be good at something.  But they are, for me, a TOTALLY, embarrassing thing to do in front of actual human beings.......your chest HAS to stick out to one end of the continent....and your butt to the other.  Ridiculous, I tell you.

Then the 3^rd round began…and another trainer, Simon, whom we workout next to occasionally and I’m always surprised at his super sweet, gentlemanly manners when he speaks to me, entered. (It's a gym after all and there's LOADS of testosterone raging)

Mr. Trainer to Simon: “I’m so proud of Mofabulous – look at THAT.”

Simon: “Man, she has awesome form.  You must be a proud papa, huh?”

Mr. Trainer: “Well, let’s just say….she’s not the most coordinated of people in the gym.  But everytime I see her do this, she nails it and I’m always surprised.  It’s one of the best things she does. I have two clients that have worked out with me for years and I can’t get them to have even close to perfect deadlifts. It straight makes my day.”

Me: “Really?”

Mr. Trainer: “Yes.  Of course.  Now, go run some stairs – 3 up, 3 down - and we’ll do another rotation.”

So, for the first time in my 8 months (this time) of working out with Mr. Trainer…..I didn’t give one dramatic eye roll, not one bit of hesitation…..and ran those stairs like I was Rocky himself.

I hadn’t realized how much I needed that one bit of encouragement and recognition.  I suppose that makes me a person with a tad bit of an ego issue, but there it is, and this is all a process of recognizing what moves me and what I need to work on.

I can, and will, not only do this – but will finish it.  No matter how long that dang scale decides to ignore me.

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: Who knew he could be an Executive coach??

So, I have a pretty big deal work meeting coming up this week.  

One, where for the first time in my entire career, I will have to be in front of the crowd instead of letting Bossman do the work.

I.Am.Terrified.

I don’t do well with being in public.  One-on-one convos, I’m brilliant!  Tell me I need to plan a big deal event in under a week?  No problem, I’m your girl!  Put me in front of a bunch of people?  I clam up, turn bright red, and sweat in places I don’t even sweat while doing anything Mr. Trainer throws at me.  Everytime I think about it, I swear – I throw up a little and my blood pressure shoots to questionable levels.

I was also counseled by a perky blonde this morning that’s trying to coach me in public speaking that I should probably keep to unassuming clothes, jewelry, and flat soled shoes so as to look demure.  I have things I’d like to say in response to that, but shall keep that in my pocket for another time. 

So, in tonight’s training session, I relayed the turn of events to Mr. Trainer.  Being the ever so supportive guy he is, he replies:

Mr. Trainer:  “So, what’s the big deal?  You show up, you do the thing, you either get it or you don’t then you leave and come see me for another session that night.”

Me:  “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND.  This is huge.  It makes me want to run away to Fiji and dig holes or something for a living.  Anything, but this.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Ok then, I get it.  Think about this way….do you remember when we first started training together?  We spent the first two months only working out upstairs near NO ONE.  Because it was quietly understood you weren’t ready to be in front of anyone and you had to find a little confidence first?”

Me:  “Oh yes, that I do remember.  Terrible.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Good – this is exactly the same.”

Me: “Huh?.....Um, no.”

So then I THOUGHT Mr. Trainer just moved on to something else.  He proceeded to bark orders and make me do nutty things, which most don’t really intimidate me anymore.

Now, I’m not sure if this is just because I have absolutely no shame left, or that I have found a little bit of confidence…..it’s a draw.  Anyways, I digress.

So, then we ended up in a small training room that is adjacent to the co-ed steam room, which I am fairly certain is never frequented by females….because, gross.

We’ve worked out there before and it hasn’t ever really bothered me because we usually go in there because the rest of the gym is super busy.  Tonight, that was the case as well.

But then, a few minutes into it, things got weird, y’all.  I mean, Grade A Super Weird.

A man – probably in his upwards 60’s decided to come out of the steam room to cool off and hang out by the half wall that separates the steam room “lobby” to the training room to chat it up with Mr. Trainer.  

Side note:  When they stand behind that half wall – they are shirtless with towels wrapped around their waist so it pretty much looks like they’re just naked traipsing around the locker room for all the world to see.

Mr. Trainer chats with him for a bit while I’m on a mat doing weird contortions and trying not to think about it.

Then the man stops talking and proceeds to watch the show.  Mr. Trainer wanted me to do the horrid step-ups…..that are at least half my height….while holding obnoxious size weights.  He was conscious of the weird silent guy so positioned me to where my back would be towards him.  It was a tricky call….chest forward or butt back?  Lesser of two evils.

So, I make it through most of them when the man goes back into the steam room….

Me:  “WHAT was that?”

Mr. Trainer:  “I dunno – he was being weird – I was trying to look out for you though to put you in a little less compromising spot.”

Me:  “Yeah, I noticed – thanks.”

Then a few minutes later……I’m on a mat doing the terrible, no good, very bad plank push-ups and ANOTHER guy pushing 70 comes out to watch the show.

My head is now on full blast.  WHAT IS THE DEAL?  I HATE THIS.  MAKE IT STOP.

So then the man FINALLY ventures back into the steam room.

Mr. Trainer: “Ok, that was weird too.  You just have to have tunnel vision…..focus on nothing else but what you came here for.  Congratulations…….you just made it through a tough workout, while sweating and shaking all kinds of bits in front of over-aged creepy guys.  Now, tell me why you can’t stand in front of a board room and speak?”

Me:  “Point taken.  Ok. You're right, ….I can do this.  I will do this.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Of course you can.  Now – my job here is done….go forth and shine.”

Me:  “Oh, stuff it.”

Then…..while walking towards the door Mr. Trainer decides to shout out….

Mr. Trainer:  “Hey Mofabulous?  Wear the heels.  I know it sounds sexist, because it is.  But…..cliches are there for a reason.  It couldn’t hurt.”

Me:  “So noted, good sir.”

Mr. Trainer: “Oh – and just in case things do go horribly wrong, can you make sure it’s videoed?  I’m in need for some new material.”

And that folks is how my “problems” are so carefully put into perspective.  The world will not end and the sky will not fall.  I’ll still have to show up to life after said meeting….I’ll still have to make it through another torture session on Thursday evening…..and I’ll still have to deal with Mr. Trainer’s sarcasm and creepy old guys from the steam room.

But, I’m so wearing the heels.  I’m still just a girl, you know.

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: Sometimes it pays to be SHORT!

Things have been WAY too serious up in here so I thought I'd show a tidbit of some lighter things...they DO actually occur and I should probably talk about them more often, so here goes....

Contrary to popular belief.....I usually try not to complain about something new I’m being given because I’m trying very hard to give new things a shot without overthinking it…..and I do trust that Mr. Trainer would not have me do something that he didn’t believe I could actually do.  

But….tonight, I knew my body was telling me for whatever reason that it was done.  Completely.  

I should also note that about 5 minutes IN to the session Mr. Trainer received a text that he did not like.....and ended up punching a wall.....more than once.....and I've never seen this sweet-hearted, docile character like that......so we both didn't say much..........I love to talk - but I know when to not poke the bear.  So, most of our session was filled with intense counting and barking of orders.  

It was about 10 minutes until the hell was over and for some reason I was NOT seeing the light at the end of the tunnel as I usually see the 10 minutes left as a victory lap.  Everything hurt and was a struggle….so, I consider it my own little God Wink tonight that he fixed it without me:

Me:  “There’s no way I’m getting on that machine.  I’ve seen other girls do it and I imagine that all of these He-Man guys get such a kick out of it they talk about it for days.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Nope, you’re going to do it.  Shut your mouth for once.”

Me:  “Well, that’s no way to treat a lady….you should be ashamed.”

Mr. Trainer:  (Feeling very proud of himself, I’m sure.)  “Climb on Princess and just do it.”

Me:  “STOP CALLING ME PRINCESS."

Mr. Trainer:  "I call 'em like I see 'em"

Me:  "Ok, but this will not end well.”

So, I proceed to attempt it while glaring at him.  Something wasn’t right.

Mr. Trainer:  “What’s going on?  Why does it look like that?”

Me:  “I dunno – my knees keep slipping.  I’m TRYING to keep everything where you told me to.  Seriously, I'm not bluffing.”

Mr. Trainer then rattles around on the machine….looks at the adjustments….and even calls Blaine over to look too.  After much man muttering, Mr. Trainer looks at Blaine and says:

Mr. Trainer: “Well, CRAP.  She’s going to lord this over me now since I made her try it.”

Blaine:  "Your problem.  Not mine - she loves me so I have no worries."

Me:  “What are you talking about?”

Mr. Trainer:  “Well, it seems you’re just not tall enough for this ride.  Go ahead and gloat shorty.”

Me:  “Oh, thank GOD!..........SEE??  I just knew it wasn’t meant for me.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Oh, say your prayers later Princess.  I’ll consult with the Devil for our next session anyways.”

And the we looked at each other and laughed like loons.  Because we both needed it.  It's probably not as funny if you weren't there.....but it was like a balm to my spirit tonight and I'll take every giggle that it gave me........and I know Mr. Trainer did too.  

And THAT is how I know that the Big Man Upstairs is always looking out for me.

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: Lessons learned

Ok, so this is one of those vague posts.  But, I made a promise to myself that I would document my journey with the whole truth.  It helps me.  It’s my inexpensive version of therapy.  And, I realize I probably sound like a broken record sometimes.  It’s my story though, so people just need to deal. 

Even the ugly times.  Always honest.  This one’s for me, because I’m sure at some point in the future I will need to be reminded of it.

Some names/pronouns (big word! Go me.) have been changed….because, well - again, this is my blog and others shouldn’t be punished for me having a big mouth.

This particular session was leg day.  I loathe leg day, mostly because Mr. Trainer makes me do step ups that are at least half my height (have I mentioned how vertically challenged I am?) with weights in obnoxious amounts at some point.  And somehow it’s always in front of a mirror so not only do I have to struggle to not pass out, I get to watch myself lumbering up and down while dripping inordinate amounts of sweat.  It’s not the pain that gets me as much as the mortification of what I am making other people witness.

Anyways……

When you have a trainer, that you also count as a friend, they tend to know a lot about you and what’s going on in your life. 

I began this session not saying much which I always somehow forget is a clear sign to Mr. Trainer that I’m thinking about something entirely too much because normally I talk  and overshare too much…..so the conversation began:

Mr. Trainer:  “So, have you talked to you-know-who?”

Me: “Nope.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Wait, were you nice last time you talked?”

Me:  “Yes, I was nice.  I CAN be nice.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Do you miss them?”

Me:  “What are you, Oprah?  Ok.  Yes, but I can’t do anything about it.  It is what it is.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Geez.  Sensitive much?”

So, things fell back into silence.  I huffed and puffed and even did Burpees without the usual eye rolls and complaining.  Clearly, things were serious.

Mr. Trainer: “Ok, just stop for a minute.”

Me: “What, what did I do?”

Mr. Trainer:  “You haven’t once told me to stick it somewhere tonight…..nor have I heard you tell me to shut it.  I’m going to need you to stop being nice – it’s freaking me out.”

Now, I don’t break down often.  And have managed to make it approximately 7 years in knowing Mr. Trainer without doing it in front of him.  I consider this an amazing feat, just so you know.  But tonight, I was momentarily possessed by something other than myself and could feel the anger just below the surface.  Which for me, unfortunately, means tears are not far behind.

Me: (In an artfully dramatic way, I’m sure.)  “What, exactly do you want from me?  You complain about me complaining.  You always refer to my eye rolls as epic.  And tonight, I haven’t done either.  Shouldn’t that be considered a GOOD THING???  I’m here, aren’t I???  I showed up, and I’m doing every stupid thing you’ve asked me to do.  What the HELL do you want?  It sucks.  All of it.  I HATE the step ups, I HATE the burpees, I HATE those damn push up plank things.  I HATE it.  And nothing’s happening.  The scale is not moving, but yet I’m here….day after day, feeling…and pretty much sure I’m looking like a complete idiot.  So if you could just LAY OFF for one night that’d be great.”

Mr. Trainer just stood there and listened.  Didn’t move a muscle.  And the few people that were in the tiny room with us deserted the field like WWIII was beginning.  Even Blaine who always likes to be around for any kind of drama.  Yep.  Things were serious.

And then it started.  The tears welling up and then the racking shoulder sobs that you just can’t seem to stop because it’s already too late.  And you feel like even more of an idiot because no matter how much your head is saying, “NO!  This can’t be happening!”  your heart and body just don’t seem to listen.

I had almost convinced myself to just run out the front door of the gym and pretend this never happened when Mr. Trainer proved yet again that his momma raised him right…..when he slowly walked over, put his arms around me, and softly said, “Stop it.  You are not the reason for someone else’s unhappiness.  You need to focus on you.  That’s it.  That’s your only responsibility.  Showing up here is showing up for yourself.  When you can finally get that concept through your thick skull, everything else….including the scale….will go in your favor.  STOP comparing yourself to everyone else.  There is only one MoFabulous, and she’s someone I’m happy to actually know and like a hell of a lot.”

Me: "Even when I'm completely acting nuts?"

Mr. Trainer: "Especially then."

I just nodded and then asked what’s next because clearly speaking was not in my favor.  So Mr. Trainer proceeded on like everything was like normal…..bless his sweet heart.

Intellectually, I understand the concept he was trying to convey.  But, the heart often has other ideas of how it should react.  And I’m slowly learning that this is a much bigger journey with a whole lot more to discover than just numbers on a scale.  It took 33 years to get me to here…..it will take more than just a few months to undo the ugly issues.

I’ll get there eventually.  I do believe in that, I really do…..it’s just sometimes I could really do without the tough lessons. 

Now………..on to the next, it has to end sometime, right??