Well, I’m back to it again. I have officially decided to get healthy. Only this time I’m getting help and I am accountable to someone. Today marked my first session with a trainer and a fitness team. It all started in February while visiting my dear friends in Colorado. My friend is 83 years old and works out every day, still works, plays golf and skis. He’s strong and fit. And I don’t mean fit for an 80 year old. I mean fit. He’s like a father to me and with that loving role comes brutal honesty:
“Lynne, you’re gonna die if you don’t get physically fit and strong.”
Oy! But I couldn’t argue with him. I was feeling so unhealthy. My knees were constantly burning with pain as I tried to maneuver my bulk around. I had all but lost the ability to move with grace. And I can’t remember the last time I was able to bend over to paint my toenails without nearly asphyxiating myself!! I was out of breath with the slightest exertion. I was a mess.
Meanwhile Papa-san tells me of the book he is writing about living longer by being strong. I muse to myself: I used to be strong. I used to be able to bend over without having to hold my breath. He speaks of a couple of people he has decided to help by starting them on a program of fitness. I say: I got fit once. I want to be fit again. I want to live.
He challenges me. “If you promise to stick to a program of strength and fitness, I will pay for it! But I don’t think you will do it!”
I accept the challenge. He didn’t believe that I was serious.
He thinks I’m bullshitting.
I wasn’t kidding.
We make a plan. He wants to buy me a membership at one of Chicago’s premier health clubs – a fancy-schmancy place with all of the bells and whistles. Oprah and Michael Jordan used to work out there. It’s a huge place at which I have only eaten lunch or listened to my band play during the dinner set at the cafe. It’s a busy strange place. I remind him that I have a membership at the Spa and Fitness Center at the Trump Hotel. It’s a boutique situation with only 200 members and the fitness director is a trusted friend. She has always gently encouraged me to join in and work out. But the expense has always been the issue. It’s the Trump and it ain’t cheap. So he and his consultants decide to find me someone who can work with a client who is “very overweight.” It was a hard prospect. I called up the Trump and of course found it easy and comfortable. I made an appointment and that brings us to today.
I had my first consultation. We discussed my history. I expressed my readiness to start to work and my once great love for weights and exercise. I was a fitness fool back in the day. And then I had my first session.
It started out innocently enough. I stood legs apart a bit farther than hip length and with arms outstretched I swung a weighted ball from the center of my body to the right, several times for three sets, all the while shifting my weight from leg to leg. I began to sweat. Then I worked the other side at which point I was so exhausted that I almost gave up.
“Four more!” Holy Crap!
Two more! Will this ever end?
Finally I was done and after doing this very simple exercise, I felt dizzy and a little sick to my stomach. Have I come to this? What the Hell? (I’d like to mention that I forgot to eat breakfast) In between these exercises I also lifted small weights – a tricep thing. Start in a bicep curl position, bring weight to my shoulders then up to the ceiling.
Then to the floor. Poor trainer asks me:
How do you want to lower yourself onto the mat? I would like to insert here that only yesterday I got two very expensive injections in my knees that magically eliminated my horrendous pain and so I very cautiously knelt onto the mat and got on my back for abdominal and obliques (side ab muscles) work. I am amazingly flexible for a fat broad so it was not torturous to do the crunches he requested. I want to say:
This is too easy! But I keep my mouth shut. He realizes it anyway and adds adjustments to up the ante.
Then he did stretches – a kind of Thai massage kind of thing where I used his body for resistance and we/he stretched my hamstrings, glutes, calves and hip flexors. He pulled my leg up straight and then pushed it down towards my head. I swear if it weren’t for my huge belly and massive boobs he probably could have extended my leg to my ears. Flexibility is something I have always been proud of and even he was impressed. I was impressed too. Then I had to get up off the floor! I get on both knees then place the foot of my not so bad (good knee) leg on the floor, place both hands down and push up. It seemed strikingly similar to a YouTube video I had just viewed of an elephant getting up from a reclining position. Thank God this was a private session in a studio!
He tells me that in our next session he will do an assessment of my present state of fitness.
Day One down. I return tomorrow to do some water fitness and a discussion about nutrition with a different trainer. Eventually, I will add Pilates (which I love) Yoga and swimming!
I am ready and I’m in good hands.
