Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Sport or Fitness (02/15/07)
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TITLE: Firm Thighs and Chocolate Don't Mix | Previous Challenge Entry
By Betty Castleberry
02/18/07 -
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This is my first fitness journal entry. I have been wanting to get in shape for a long time now, so I finally decided to do it.
“Elaine,” I said to myself between mouthfuls of hot fudge sundae, “join a fitness center.”
I did, and they even assigned me a personal trainer. His name is John, and it was his suggestion I keep this journal. He said it would help keep me focused and allow me to see my progress. So far, all I’ve done is sign up, but tomorrow I start in earnest. I’ll be going to the center on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.
TUESDAY
Whew! I’m beat. I started out in a ladies' aerobics class this morning. The instructor is a tiny little thing named Marcie. She wears a blonde pony tail pulled up high on her head, and has cute little pixie features.
I was sitting on my mat waiting for the class to begin when Marcie yanked off her warm-up jacket and revealed that she was wearing a skimpy leotard. When I looked around the room, I noticed the other women were dressed just like her. My bulky sweats evidently were not the right uniform for this class. It’s a mystery to me why all of those trim young women are in that class anyway. I didn’t see one pucker of cellulite anywhere, except on me. I bet all those skinny girls go to lunch together and share a string bean.
When Marcie spoke, I about jumped right out of my sweat pants. She might have looked like Tinkerbell, but she sounded like Brunhilda. Her bark was at least two octaves lower than a Rottweiler’s.
She started us out with a few toe touches. In my case, they were knee cap touches, but at least I participated. Then it was on to a lot of twisting and bouncing to blaring rock music. After thirty minutes, we were finally allowed to rest. Okay, I cheated and rested several times while Marcie had her back to us. For me, it was either rest there or rest in the emergency room.
I really think I’ll have a better day on Thursday. Today was just the ice breaker.
THURSDAY
John showed me the exercise equipment today, and got me started on the rowing machine. He’s blunt, but maybe that’s a good thing. He said, among other things, the rower would help tighten the flab on my upper arms, then I wouldn’t look like I was taking flight every time I raised my hands over my head. He set the resistance for “light,” and believe me, it was truly an illuminating moment. I discovered that living with upper arm flab might not be so bad after all.
Then he took me to the juice bar. I was really looking forward to a glass of cold orange juice, but instead, John handed me a glass of thick, green liquid, and said, “Enjoy.” Yeah, right. It smelled an awful lot like my compost pile. I pretended to take a sip, then excused myself for the ladies room.
I’m sure Saturday will be much better.
SATURDAY
Today I worked with hand weights. Very briefly, that is. Until now, I had no idea a puny one pound weight dropped on your foot could break it. This does mean I will not be able to compete in the beginner's hand ball tournament next Tuesday, but that’s okay. I’m sitting here with my right foot propped up on a stack of pillows.
John sent me home with a powdered energy drink to stir into skim milk. Unfortunately, all I have is chocolate milk. I guess that will have to do, since for obvious reasons I can’t go to the store at the moment. In fact, I may skip the energy drink all together, seeing as how I won’t be able to mix it properly. Maybe I’ll just drink the chocolate milk instead.
While it would be nice to be in better shape, I may put off this whole fitness thing after all. I think I need to try to accept the middle-aged body God gave me. He loves me just like I am, flabby thighs, midriff bulge, and all. I guess I should love me just the way I am, too. Maybe after my foot heals, I’ll go back to the fitness center just one day a week. Nah...
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