The Girl Who Lived

My 26th birthday was amazing. I was totally spoiled to death by my family over the weekend, and then Andrew took over the festivities on the day of. He took me back to the restaurant where we recently had Date Night, and gave me an amazing gift: a membership to Fitness MD. Fitness MD is located in the town I grew up in, and is a super hardcore gym. Basically, they have a traditional gym, but they also have classes designed for people like me. And by people like me, I mean people with ZERO willpower or dedication. The classes are overseen by trainers, who push and guide you the entire time. If you don’t show up, they call or email you. They also give you a customized diet plan and have you track your food. Oh, and did I mention the fact that they weigh, measure, poke and prod you when you start and once a month thereafter to make sure you are being successful?

This, my friends, strikes fear into my heart. Weighing in front of someone else?! Having another soul know my measurements?! UGH. Even Andrew, the person privy to everything I do, will never, EVER know my weight. Or just how big my hips are.

Anyways, my friend Gina already goes to this gym, and so she took me with her to my first class. And let me just get this out there: IT KICKED MY ASS. Here’s what I looked like after:

I did it.

I did it.

Can you see the sweat dripping off my face? And that anguished grimace? Wait ’til you hear what they did to me.

I arrived, and everyone was friendly and sweet. I was told that we’d be doing a “big lap.” I wasn’t aware that this meant a freaking HALF A MILE around the building. IN 95 DEGREE WEATHER. Listen, I don’t like to breathe in that weather. Run?! Are you high? I dragged my fat all around that building. I’m happy to say I ran a lot of it, but definitely had a long extended walk as well.

I got back inside, doing the ugly sucking of breath I do while I run and tried to conceal it in front of the entire class. Cute. I was told we’d be doing a series of upper body exercises. And no one told me that by “a series” they meant approximately 19 billion. There were hammer curls and skull crushers and push ups. Perhaps the most notable was the pull-up. Because Gina and I are girls, we could not even do one traditional pull up. Instead, we got to lay on the ground underneath a metal bar that was bent to look sort of like the bars you can do flips on—sort of like a giant un-stapled, staple. We were supposed to lay our feet out and with the help of our partner, pull ourselves up. In order to spot one another, we had to straddle our partner, face them, and put our hands on their low back to help them pull.

Basically, it looked like we were riding one another with some giant bar apparatus. HOT. Sweaty, hard-working girls now looking like we are humping each other.

A trainer came over and showed us a less compromising way to do this…just as our set was ending.

Thank god I was with a girlfriend I am comfortable with. It was definitely a good way to get broken in. After we finished set after set of arm exercises, I was silently cheering for myself, so happy that it was over. Then, they told me I had to run another BIG LAP. Really? Another half mile?


All kidding aside, it was a great experience. The hour and ten minutes flew by and I wasn’t bored whatsoever. My arms already feel like limp noodles, and taking off my sports bra was a total nightmare. It took so much effort to put both arms over my head. I’m really excited about this journey, because it gives me hope that I really will be able to DO IT this time. I’ve got a lot of support and I’m so grateful for Andrew giving me such a thoughtful gift.

And you can bet I’ll be back tonight, running that big lap and hopefully not straddling anyone else.

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Filed under life with titch

3 responses to “The Girl Who Lived

  1. YAY YOU!!! This is awesome!! 🙂

  2. Christina

    So is the gym an every single day thing now?

  3. Nice work! I recently (and finally) realised that I need to step it up too in terms of exercise, my half-assed 15/30 min walks 3 times a week were not something to be proud off, nor could I eat any more treats because of them. So now I haul ass for a 1 hour/2 hill trip home most days after work. Well it was most days… now it’s about twice a week, which my friend graciously tell me is ‘better than nothing’ or ‘better than me’. I gotta take a leaf out of your book and get back up to 5 days a week. Good luck with your classes! Sounds like a fantastic way to get the kick in the ass most of us need with out shelling out big bucks for a PT.

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