Tag Archives: Fitness

“If It Wasn’t Hard, Everyone Would Do It.”

30 Jun

You all know how much I love me some good fitness inspiration. Whether it’s motivational posters and quotes, wicked workouts, or healthy foods to fuel my muscles, I love getting inspired by all the great fitness info the internet has to offer. Out of morbid curiosity, I decided to peruse some of the top women’s magazine and fitness sites to see what they had to say about working out. What I found reminded me why I tend not to read those magazines in the first place. Take a look at some of these headlines:

The Fastest Abs Workout Ever! Tighten and Tone Your Tummy in Five Minutes.

Three Rules for the Best Weight Loss Workout!

Fergie’s Flat Abs Secret!

5 Smoothies That Really Slim!

5 Minutes to Flat Abs!

Five New Ways to Lose Weight!

Three things pop out to me. First, people love quantifiable numbers. Second, of those numbers, five is the most popular. Third, they all implicitly promise quick, fast, unrealistic results.

Five minutes alone won’t give you abs like Rhianna. It’s a celebrity’s job to look great, and it’s a full-time job. Most of us don’t have that luxury, as we have full-time jobs that don’t involve a personal trainer, so knowing their ‘secrets’ won’t change our life. There are no magic foods that will whittle your waistline on their own with no extra effort on your part. There are no new ways to lose weight. It’s science. Work out and eat right, that’s it. If I’ve learned anything about fitness and working out, it’s that there are no shortcuts. There’s not one magic move, there is no magic pill, it’s just not that easy. If it was, everyone would look like Beyonce.

That’s one thing I love about my favorite fitness lifestyle blog, Tone It Up: they are realistic about telling you that if you follow their workouts, diets, etc. you’ll get out of it what you put in. Work hard and reap the rewards. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.

So say it with me, ladies! We reject the headlines that breed a culture of laziness and tell us we’re five minutes away from the waist of our dreams! We won’t lose 25 pounds if we can just find that magic move or choose to take the stairs! We will work for the body we want, stop looking for the quick temporary fix, and be darn proud of ourselves on the other side!

P.S… A just read this and said it’s the same for men and their magazines. “Five Minutes To the Biceps of Your Dreams!” Whatever. Men and women of the world, reject the crappy headlines that hold promises as substantial as air. To paraphrase Missy Elliot, “Is it worth it? Let me work it. I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it.” Let’s flip the script and work it!

Learning to Be A Bad Mamma Jamma

2 May


I stood there, on the rubberized floor mat, trying to ignore the sweat that threatened to drip down my brow. Dripping sweat is so not hot. My shirt proclaimed, “Pretty Fast isn’t Good Enough.” It’s part of my ‘fake it ’till you make it’ series of shirts. (Also in the series, “Born to Run.” Because I’m not, really, but I want to be and I love the song.) But it wasn’t living up to its motivational job that day.

I watched as Trainer Kenny scanned the available weights and picked out each for my new regimen of strength training. 12.5, 15, 20 pounds…he picked up each, looked at me, and picked up the next weight higher. My eyes bugged out the further right he went. Surely he doesn’t expect me to pick up that?!?

Trainer Kenny picked up the 30 pound barbel like it was nothing. “We’re going to learn a new exercise today: Deadlifts!” He said cheerfully, as he let the weight go with an audible *thunk* on the bouncy floorboards. What now? Whada huh? Are they called that because they killed the last person you tried this on? These were the thoughts racing through my head as I looked at the dead-weight laying at my feet. Lift this? I have a hard time carrying more than one gallon of milk into the house, and you want me to lift that? You’re kidding, right?

He wasn’t.

So I lifted it. And other weights as I went through the series of exercises Trainer Kenny had come up with for me to make me feel like a bad a$$. I was lifting weights, and I was a bad mamma-jamma.

Since I took up with Trainer Kenny and his wacky (read: non-lazy) philosophy of working out, I’ve done things I didn’t believe I could do. Nothing crazy, but I’ve gone from a girl who was afraid to push herself to a woman determined, motivated, empowered to explore the reaches of her strength. To not just take the 15 reps if I feel I can do 20. To ask to do a full plank until I collapse. It’s strange. It’s the opposite of comfortable. But it’s worth it.

It’s not always fun, but it’s always rewarding.I learned something this week. I’m capable of more than I think. Unlike most of my life where I’m happy to take on a challenge, push myself beyond what is comfortable, when it comes to physical fitness I’ve shied away from pushing myself. I’ve chosen ignorance over health, weakness over achievement. And I deserve better.

I am so grateful for Kenny’s expertise. He thinks I can do more than I can, and therefore I do. I am so used to being self-motivated, self-driven, self-actualized, but sometimes – when I’m out of my depth – I need someone to believe I can do more than I think I can and push me. My eyes bugged out as he pulled bigger and bigger weights for my rowers, my chalice squats, my…I don’t even know what they’re called, but they were hard! I did more than I thought I could this week, and I felt more powerful pushing through and owning the modicum of strength I’ve achieved in that last two months. Weights have so often been the exclusive domain of the big, the built, the manly; if an athletic girl (never mind an overweight, big, curvy and fabulous girl) dared to infringe on their sacred ground, they were greeted with scorn, derision, condemnation; I know, I’ve seen it. So I’ve never gone there. But with Kenny by my side, I was going to try. And I rocked it, 31 BMI and all.

The takeaway? I can do more than I thought I could. You can do more than you could. Maybe, like me, you needed someone to tell you, someone to believe in you, believe that you could do it. You can. I can. We can. We are more than our lazy-butt couch-sitting selves want to think we are. If you can’t believe in yourself, get someone wh believes in you to push you. Untill you believe it yourself. Because you can do it.

You can lift a weight the size of your head. And rock it.

Tales From a Non-Athlete Learning to Work It Out

19 Mar

image from motivationintohabit on tumblr

So I mentioned earlier that I joined a gym. It’s been two weeks to the day since I started actually attending and exercising. So far I have seven hour-long classes under my belt, two personal training sessions, and three on-my-own running days. (Before you ask, no, I don’t go every day. More like every other day. My gym has an awesome class list on Monday and Saturday where power yoga comes right after step class, so I get a twofer benefit by planning to stay for two hours.) I’ve had days where I leave the gym feeling like I could climb a mountain. I’ve had days where I call A on my way home crying in frustration. I’ve had days where I feel like I could go for a third hour, and days where I feel like my legs are filled with cement. (Usually the latter happens on days where I had more than a little to drink the night before. Funny, that.) Despite setting a ridiculous physical goal for myself last year and meeting it, I am not what anyone would call athletic. This has been especially true since I started fighting S.A.D. For the last three years a desk job and lack of activity has helped me grow to have an alarming body fat percentage and sixty pounds of excess weight to lose. Even more than putting goals to get healthy on The List, I’m very motivated to change my habits before I turn thirty and physical fitness becomes even harder to achieve. Not that it’s not possible – if Biggest Loser has taught me anything it’s that anything is possible no matter how old you are – just that it may be harder. As a lifelong non-athlete, I wanted to share a few things I’ve learned in my vast experience as a two-week-old hard-core gym goer.

Belonging to the same gym your friends do makes all the difference.
Three of my girlfriends belonged to my gym before I did. The first week I joined, my friend Dianne (my unofficial life-coach) texted me four times to see if I wanted to meet her at the gym. Even if she isn’t going, she regularly asks me if I am. Talk about motivation. I get to catch up with my friend Hanna at step class (and try to copy her killer moves), and Mandy and I make plans whenever her crazy work schedule allows her to meet up. Even if we’re not doing a class, we’ll often text each other to say we’re going and try to meet up. It’s fun, it definitely helps me in my goal to have Friends Without Food dates, and we’ve hung out after workouts a few times to have dinner or grab a smoothie and discuss life, books, or whatever. I know I’d go even if I was just me, but having them there is a super boost of motivation.

I’m so much more likely to go when my gym feels like a spa.
I’ve done the dingy, poorly air-conditioned gyms. I’ve done the cramped circuit training specialty gyms. Walking into a gym that feels airy, open, and clean is amazing. It really has an atmosphere that feels more like a spa that you happen to work out it. It smells clean instead of sweaty, and employees walk around every ten minutes making sure everything is wiped off, refreshed, and sanitized. Speaking of employees, I’ve dealt with many in my two weeks, and they are so far from the bored co-ed more interested in flirting with their co-worker than answering your question it’s not even funny. Everyone acts like it’s a singular pleasure to see you when you walk in, help you if you have a question, or tell you about new classes. It’s lovely.

To get sold-out on exercise, everyone must find their thing that they love to do.
For me, this is running and classes. I’m always fighting to turn off my mind, and there’s nothing like going for a run to reduce life down to something as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. This isn’t to say all kinds of running works for me. I hate running on a treadmill. I’ll do it (I melt in the rain, you know) but nothing makes me feel more free than watching scenery pass as I run by. As much as I like being alone with my thoughts on a run, I’m so much more motivated if I meet people for a run. That’s because I’m super social, and being around people motivates me. Which is why classes really work for me. I’m so blessed to have friends at my gym, but even knowing there’s a whole room of strangers meeting up to work out really works for me. I’m more and more convinced that everyone has something they can get into exercise-wise, if they only cared to find it.

I have no core.
At all. My trainer has been working with me to build core muscles and overall lean muscle to help support my running. I can do a wussy plank for 30 seconds before collapsing. But that’s fifteen more seconds than I could do the first time. My core is sore for days after we meet, but I’m becoming aware of muscles I didn’t know I had before. I have to build my core and lean muscle mass, because it will make me a stronger runner, better at yoga (also on The List), and (one day) make bearing a child easier.

It’s all mental.
The more I learn about my body, the more I realize that I am limited only by my own belief in myself. Working out with a trainer has really underlined the truth of that for me. My trainer tells me I can do something I haven’t done before, and I psych myself out before I get there. It reminds me of the first time I ran a whole mile. I was running with a TNT mentor, and I wanted to drop down to a walk after a few minutes. He kept urging me on, saying to try to keep it up for just a little longer. Until I hit a mile. Without realizing it. I kind of shut down a bit and decided to turn back, since that was the farthest I’d moved in a long time, much less ran. On my way back, I decided to keep running and see what I could do. I kept wanting to stop, and after almost giving in a few times I did a physical check on how my body was doing. Was I breathing hard? Yes, but it was a normal amount and manageable. Was my heart feeling stressed? No. Were my legs tired? Nope. Feet? Nuh-uh. Which left only one thing; I’d never run that far before, so my brain was reacting by sending signals along the lines of, “danger, danger, this in uncharted territory. You’ve never done this before, you’d better stop before something scary happens.” Only nothing scary was coming. After that, I’ve done my darndest to not self-sabotage just because I haven’t done something before. Which brings me to my next point…

I’ll try (almost) anything once.
Kick boxing, Yoga, Zumba, Boot Camp, Core Focus, Pilates, you name it, I want to take it. But, as I said earlier it’s important to know yourself. I have no interest in water aerobics or anything involving spinning. You have to be a very special kind of crazy person to enjoy strength training while perched on a hard, skinny bicycle seat.

If losing weight were easy, everyone would do it.
It’s hard, I’m not going to lie. Working out, especially with a trainer has made me face some uncomfortable realities about myself. I’ve never learned to work out, and I’ve not been a good steward of the body I’ve been blessed with. It’s like going to therapy. It’s not pleasant, it doesn’t feel great in the moment, but I go through it because, ultimately, being healthy worth it.

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