Memoirs of a Fat Girl

My gym workout to this point consists of time on the Elliptical, the Dipper and the Weighted Swivel thing. Of course they are not called the Dipper and the Weighted Swivel thing, I just call them that because I don't know what their real names are.

The Precor Elliptical is a cross between a stairmaster, which I hate, and a treadmill, which I also hate. I hate climbing on the spot because it makes my bad knees crack repeatedly, and because I feel I'm getting nowhere. I hate the treadmill because I know I'm getting nowhere. I can walk and run outside all I like, why on earth would I need a machine or a gym membership to do it?

Me and the Elliptical are a perfect match. I don't walk or step, I do these circle step things that work my butt and bring out the Niagara Falls of sweat, baby. Better yet, and this is where I do a little Yee-Haw, when I started going to the gym and first tried out the machine, the best I could do was three lousy minutes. Three minutes of gut-wrenching misery that left me grumpy and pissed off. Determined not to be defeated, I stuck it out and eventually worked my way up to 45 minutes... and then I left the gym and didn't show my miserable face there gain for two plus years.

When I started up again last week though, I did a strong half hour! I am woman, hear me roar! Well, hear me gasp is more like it, but I'm definitely elliptisizing my way to a roar.

The Dipper is this bolted-to-the-floor contraption with leather padding in the shape of a V. That makes no sense whatsoever. Okay, you sorta step into this thing and it keeps you standing at a tilt, your abdomen in the V, and one by one you dip your abs into submission, dammit. That probably makes less sense, but it's a killer, and you feel it bitching at you the next day when every step leaves you wheezing for air. In other words: don't drop the soap.

The Weighted Swivel thing you sit at, put the key at your desired level of weights (I started at 40lbs.), wrap your arms around the swivel part, which is hooked up to the weights, and swivel away. Again that makes no sense, but your abs and arms thank you. Not the next morning when you can't pick up the toothbrush or your bra straps when they're sliding off your shoulders underneath your work clothes. But a few hours later, they are.

I expected to be in sickening amounts of pain the morning after my first visit back to the gym, and I was. Ironically enough not from working out, but from sleeping wrong. I was so exhausted after my "Return to Wonder Woman" episode, I passed out on Oli's guest futon with my mouth wide open and head lolling off the pillow. Didn't matter one bit that I could barely sit down the next day, so stretched were my muscles from squats, what DID matter was I couldn't turn left.

So it's been a week, I can turn my head both ways again without wincing or looking stupid, I've been eating right, worked out at the gym three times and every night at home. And according to Herbal Magic, I've lost two whole pounds. Right now, life is good.