This one was the hardest workout I’ve ever done. I think I will have a heart attack and all of my limbs will fall off unless I get into complete shape before my next visit. A said to me, “Did you think it was going to be easy ALL the time?” Easy? Excuse me? When was this easy?
I’ve also amended my reason why PT’s work out with mirrors surrounding them. I originally said that it was so that they can see you struggle from every possible angle!! Now I believe it’s so that you look in the mirror at every opportunity and realize how awful you look. When you realize how disgusting you look, you become obsessed with coming back until you look as good as the trainers walking around. It’s a win-win situation for the PT’s, a lose-lose for the trainee. See, each day you’re confronted with the way you look. I think each person is his or her own worst enemy. I do not want to watch myself struggle to do a sit-up. I do not care to see the sweat pouring off my body. And I simply cannot stand to see my belly fat jiggle through my wet, sweaty tee-shirt as I move about. Also, have I mentioned that it simply horrible that that I have to practically tape my boobs against my chest, lest they break free and give me a black eye as I'm doing a jumping jack? And even though eventually, hopefully, with any sort of luck or prayer, I become fit, I’ll be flat broke. See…lose-lose as it’s happening. Only WIN-WIN for the trainee AFTER it’s complete. And/or I win the lottery.
We started with 5 minutes on the Stair Climbing Machine. Getting better, didn’t break a sweat until AFTER the 4 minute mark. Didn’t even huff at all.
We moved on to a chest and back machine. For some reason, I could not grasp this one. There were far too many instructions and I felt completely retarded doing it. I cannot remember to lower my shoulders, lift my elbows and arch my should blades together as I move this machine. Oh, AND I'm not supposed to let the weights hit the bottom. Too much for this blonde - that's for sure. I did 30 facing front and 30 facing back, but I felt very inadequate on this one.
Then we did what I like to call our regular resistance routine on the ball. The arms, the reach, the walk down and crunches. I really am getting better at this part. At least I think I am. But really, what do I know? As I'm finding out, not a whole hell of a lot.
We played ‘Satan’s Roly-Poly’ again. Have I mentioned how much this game annoys me? This time we did 20 reps, then rested 30 seconds and did 15 reps, then rested again and did a final 10. Again, at 6 on the third set I thought I was going to break out into tears. At 8 I was trying to decide if it would be a good idea to fake a seizure so that my hell could stop. I made it to 10 and told A he must stop this insanity. I just couldn’t play this silly game again. Somehow I don’t think he cares.
We worked with the resistance cords, this time looping them above the bar. Up down, up down, over, under – too many reps to count. It’s official, I have no strength in my upper body. None. Whatever I had is gone, because I can’t move my arms at all anymore.
On to stretching. Suddenly this is my favorite part. Not only because I know my semi-torture hour is over, but because my muscles don’t have anything to do but rest and stretch. Oh yea, and he practically lays on top of me, which is the closest thing to male contact I've had in awhile. Thank God for those last 5 minutes. Thank GOD!
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