Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Just Play Along With Me

I've been going to the gym for a couple of months now. I've even been working with a trainer since early December.

The reason I started all of this was simple. Last Summer, my dad had heart bypass surgery. He did not have a heart attack, thank heavens. His heart is in great shape and strong as ever. I think the cardiologist said something along the lines of "the heart of an 18 year old". It's a miracle Dad didn't have a heart attack. He'd been having some tightness in his chest (oh, for about a year without mentioning it!!) so he went in for a heart cath to check it out. The doctor was thinking that they may have to put in a stent. So, when the doctor came out of the cath lab and said Dad was going to have bypass surgery ASAP and that he had a 98% blockage in the main artery to the left side of his heart, we were all a bit stunned to say the least.

Now, when you add the fact that my mom is a diabetic to this, I decided I either had to chuck in the towel now, or actually get off of my ass and do something about it. So, as I said before, I've been going to the gym regularly since the end of November.

My main goals were to feel better on a day to day basis, to build up a little cardio-vascular stamina for when I carry Twinkle upstairs when she's dead asleep, and to hopefully avoid the genetic destiny I seem to have.

I do feel better almost daily. I can actually carry the 42 lb. sack of potatoes up the stairs without feeling like I'm going to puke at the top. I have hopefully had some effect, though I realize I haven't been at it long, on my genetic destiny. I'm even one of those people I used to want to smack when they'd say, "I just don't feel great on the days I don't exercise." OK, I still don't actually say that out loud to others, but it is technically true.

Despite already reaching the above goals, I'm a bit annoyed. Today, my trainer did a "re-evaluation" that involved weighing myself (which I've decided doesn't matter) and, AND, re-measuring my body fat percentage. UGH. My weight had not changed, AND my body fat percentage had not changed. It doesn't help that my husband, who has put on a little weight himself lately, went to the gym for his "free trainer" session and his body fat percentage is a full TEN points below mine (He was nice enough to point out that he doesn't have boobs). My trainer reassured me that she's not wild about the little machine they use to do this measurement, and that the reading can be effected by water you've had to drink and time of day, etc., etc., but I was still a smidge bummed.

I feel tighter. I feel like I have more muscle. I feel healthier. I am happier and easier to get along with on a daily basis. So why am I letting that silly little machine bother me so much?

1 comment:

Heather said...

Aren't men just infuriating like that? They say, "oh, I'm going to try a diet" and lose 10 lbs no problem. I, on the other hand, can bust my butt and drop (if I'm lucky) 2 lbs. Me no like it.

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