Here’s the thing: I don’t usually fret over my weight. I mean, like everyone, I have my moments of weakness where I worry about it and kick into high gear regarding working out and eating well. And when I do that I feel awesome. I look good and feel good and I’m one hundred percent positive that I will keep up the good work and be fit and healthy always.
And then something happens, as usual. Lunch plans at work, or dinner plans after work. Sleeping in on the weekend or a hangover that won’t go away. I slip. I’m human and I can’t keep up the schedule I start when I’m really pumped about because, as time passes, I get less pumped about it. There’s a show I want to watch or a book I want to read or a bottle of wine I want to drink um, share with a friend.
So when I moved down here I promised myself that I would make working out a priority – not the number one priority, but I would bring it to the top 5. Well, at least the top ten. So Wes and I joined a gym and in the past three weeks I’ve been down there at least three times a week, sometimes more. And I’ve felt better. I’ve noticed a difference in the way I look and the way I feel.
Now, with this fancy new gym membership we got four free (!) (okay, I’m sure it was built into the price but I already paid for it so it’s free!) sessions with a personal trainer. Last night was our first one and I walked away feeling not so hot. For anyone who hasn’t been to a personal trainer, one of the first things they do (at least at 24 Hour) is measure your BMI. Now, I’m not saying I’m in fantastic shape, but I’m getting there and I wasn’t worried about this BMI test. I wasn’t expecting the greatest (in this case, “Athletic”) but I was thinking that I’d be at least “In Shape”. Turns out, I’m not. I’m in the “Needs Improvement” category.
Needs Improvement? I was immediately craving pizza and a bottle of wine. I mean, I’ve been working hard and I come in here and what they tell me is that I’m not working hard enough. I have to cut my meal portions – instead of a full sandwich for lunch, just have half a sandwich. Half a sandwich? I’m trying to get in shape, not starve myself (okay, to be fair, she did say “don’t starve yourself” but that was after the part about cutting meal portions).
Walking out of the gym, I felt like shit. And I admit, I took it out on Wes because he was in the “In Shape” category and it made me mad. It frustrated me that women have to work so much harder to be in shape.
So, yeah, I’m frustrated because not only does my workout need improvement, but so does my social life. I don’t make friends easily, and it’s doubly hard when you have no social interaction at all because, um, I don’t have a job and I don’t know anyone here.
Maybe the likely solution would be to find a job, but here’s the thing: 1) that’s not so easy here in So Cal and 2) I don’t want to find one yet. I’m lucky enough to be in a position to not have to go back to work right away and I want to savor it. Obviously, it would be better and more fun if I had someone who also didn’t have to work, but for right now I’ll just work on my reading and and feeling better about myself – regardless of what that stupid BMI reads next week.