1st workout in 7 months

Seven months ago, I made a decision to deprive myself of one of my greatest treats in life – exercise. You see I was an addict. I was obsessive and completely in love with my routine of working out at the gym. Maybe it’s because it was comfortable – after all, it was the same gym, and the same people. It was my home away from home. My routines were also something I excelled at. I swiftly plowed through my workouts with confidence. I had even created a specialized playlist on my iPod for the daily grind. Of course, that was seven months ago. This last week, for the first time in all of those months, I traversed back to the gym. I walked in, greeted old friends I hadn’t seen in awhile, and got ready to work it. That’s not to say I walked in with confidence. After being inactive for seven months, I was full of anxiety. I was honestly nervous about practically everything – how weak was I? Would people laugh? Would I re-enact that Fuddrucker’s Food Challenge and actually puke? Yet here I was, ready for work. I tried to fall back into my old habits – like riding a bike, right? I put on my headphones, cranked on my workout mix (it was hardcore AC/DC, so get all thoughts of Karma Chameleon or Madonna out of your minds), and began. I started with a set of push-ups. It seemed like it would be easy enough. Fired up by the pounding music, my adrenaline flared and I went through the set of 15. I was slightly caught off guard by a bit of the wobbly elbows during my first set, and was slightly more scared to dive into set two. After years of supporting clients through their first knee push-ups, I had an odd out of body experience realizing I’d need to employ the same approach. Slightly embarrassed, and more humbled, I completed set two on my knees. And I had to take mini-breaks to recover. As a personal trainer, I always wondered what new clientele thought as they started their uphill climb. Now I knew, because I was thinking the same thing. And over and over, the same thought went through it – “this is HARD!” Maybe I was too aggressive, thinking it would be like riding a bike, and I’d dive right in. Maybe I just underestimated how difficult things are when you try to exercise when you’re overweight. At the end of the workout, with arms actually made out of Jell-O, I sluggishly left the gym. No high fives. No blazing workout music. Just reality. This is going to be a lot of work. Three days later, and I’m still sore. I keep waiting to start “feeling better”, and I know I’ll eventually get there. Then again, if I don’t, my tens of thousands of followers will never let me hear the end of it. And that’s not even mentioning how my wife would react!