Not another step

Holy frijoles. Everything (pretty much) below my rib cage hurts. Hurts bad.

Had my first training session with Kelly last night. My friend Craig suggested I call him Sven, which conjures images of a massive blonde & relentless Swedish trainer.

Well, Kelly isn't blonde, but the relentless moniker is deserved. He is supportive and encouraging, for sure, but also pushes non-stop. Yeah, he's kinda like a pain pusher. But isn't that what a trainer is supposed to do? I don't need to be coddled or cuddled. I need to be punished. In a gym-kinda-way. Which is what Kelly did, for over an hour.

The best part? The stretch at the end. Heaven.

Oh, and the pic isn't Kelly, it's the ShakeWeight Guy, whose face cracks me up. Is he working out or just happy to see me?

So, about 25 minutes into the session he remarked that this is the tipping point, where most of his first-day clients bow out. He's only had a few make it to the end. Suckers, that's what I have to say. Now, whether that was trainer-speak or actual fact, it mattered not because I paid and I was gonna play the entire 60 minutes.

See, when I work out in a group or with someone else, I suck it up. I'd rather finish in a pool of mushy goo, weeping from the pain than beg off and wimp out because, well, that's darn embarrassing.

But, to be honest, about 30 minutes into it, I felt like tossing Toll House Cookies, but 10 seconds of rest brought me back from potential liquid to solid ground. The cool part? Kelly called me on my pre-vomitous face and told me to hang back for a few seconds to collect my innards. He was totally cool with it, so I was too.

He also told me that spitting, hissing, yelling, moaning and swearing were completely acceptable from his trainees. He only got swearing from me last night - not aimed at him, just felt good to release verbally.

Who knew that a lower body and ab weight workout could be so intense? So painful? So punishing? So RIGHT?

Ha.

We met for 20 minutes after the session to go over my meal plan, which so far has been delightful in the fruity sense. Adding blueberries to my BFL food regimen has brought color, taste and variety into what was a pretty bland menu. AND I totally scored last night at Schnucks because Shredded Wheat was on sale 4/$10. I got 8. Go big or go home when it comes to fiber, folks.

So today I can barely walk. Seriously, I must look like Mr. Magoo ambling down the hallway. Probably a hilarious sight to see. My funny walk means I need to either hit a spin class later or run to keep from getting completely stiff.

So far, loving this training experience. I may have to keep it up beyond the 3 months...seems worth it to me.

My New Trainer

I met with my new trainer last night. Kelly Moran is his name, and kickin' my ass is his game.

He was recommended by my most awesome new Martini Mondays friend.

We had a half-hour consult, where we went over my dossier, which is just a fancy term for my dorky goal/challenge sheet I typed up over the weekend.

We formed an elaborate plan of attack. He's giving me today to exercise my foodie demons, which means I'm going out to lunch and dinner and eating/drinking what I want.

Starting tomorrow, the following foods are no longer allowed in my bod until I hit a certain goal:

Sugar
Salt
Dairy
Red Meat
Starchy carbs
Any and all restaurant and fast food
Soda pop
Processed foods (with the exception of protein drinks and bars)
Alcohol

So this magic and secret goal will probably be reached around the end of May, which is a good thing, as it's my birthday and I'll be wanting to celebrate proper. Aside from the super-secret goal, other goals include:

1. Looking hot in my soon-to-be-purchased Molina Cards jersey.
2. Competing in the New Town Tri
3. Getting the 5-Star Century Badge

My friend told me Kelly had trained someone new Monday morning, and after 10 minutes they threw up and had to leave.

Ha - this I like to hear.

Our first training session is Monday.

I hope he yells at me.

I hope he pushes me so hard I am on the verge of throwing up but don't actually do so.

Here's to the next three months of hell - the secret, magic goal will be worth it.