adventures of a mere mortal in fitness and life

ass. kicked.

Some of you may know that I have this guy who is my trainer, commonly referred to as “Trainer Guy” in this blog, since about January.  My parents asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I said, “Well, I think I would like to meet with a personal trainer a few times, so I can get an idea of how to get in better shape.”  Little did I know how things would end up.  I am still meeting regularly with Trainer Guy (except now I’m footing the bill) and I think that this has made an important difference in my fitness level and my attitudes and ways of thinking about life in general.  I think that I was at a point in life where I was open to something new, and a new way of thinking, so I am not saying hiring a personal trainer would be this awesome experience for everyone, but it was for me.  Some people already have all their mental shit together, but let’s face it, no one who really knows me would say I have my shit together.

Before I left for vacation, I had kinda been patting myself on the back because I had done a number of workouts on my own where I pretty much felt like I kicked my own ass pretty good.  And of course, I started thinking, “I am getting pretty good at kicking my own ass,” which led to thoughts like “Maybe I don’t really need Trainer Guy anymore.  Maybe I should just go it alone.”  And other thoughts like, “If I got rid of Trainer Guy, then I could get TV back in time for the Olympics.  And I could buy really nice wine.  And possibly some new shoes.”

Fast forward to today.  I went swimming in the morning, as usual, to wet my gills and get some yardage in. I met with Trainer Guy this morning because I have no schedule until classes start next week (the lack of schedule not driving me crazy at all, noooo….) and because let’s face it, I went on vacation for 18 days.  No one goes on vacation and comes back in better shape then when they left, except for those weirdo boot camp vacations that people take, which are not vacations but probably more like brief intervals of torture on a beach.  If you have never worked out on a beach, it isn’t what it looks like in the pictures.  It’s sand caving under your foot ever time you run and lots of sweat, which helps plaster the sand to every inch of your body.

Anyways, back to today.  Today we (really, I-he counted) did all the most horrible exercises that I hate (no sand here thankfully).  And we did them fast.  And a lot of them.  And I hit myself in the face with a medicine ball- no shocker to most of you.  By the end, I was hardly able to stand up.  Or breathe for that matter.  Or get out of the car and walk up the stairs to my house afterward.  And then it dawned on me: I just got my ass kicked.  Followed by my inner ghetto voice: Fo’ reals, y’all. 

I thought I was doing a good job on my own, but today I remembered I could go farther, work harder, push myself more.  And that is why I need someone like Trainer Guy around- to knock me down a peg and remind me what I wanted to accomplish in the first place.  And that I should avoid ball sports.

Before I used to think amazing or lucky things just “happened” to people.  But I realize now that it’s all up to me.  Louis Pasteur said, “Chance favors the prepared mind.”  I think that applies far beyond the mind-chance favors the prepared… you fill it in.


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