Zo you vant to get bak into shep?
I live in a rural part of Georgia. I can look out my front door onto a 150 acre cow pasture. I can look out my back door on a 150 acre forest. To the right of us is a "subdivision". It used to be a 200 acre cattle farm but was bought by a developer and houses are being built. They are nice homes and the roads for the subdivision are already paved in. I was using that as my "track". Increasingly as the dark comes sooner in the day I was feeling unsafe. Also factor in winter weather and my motivation for running was slowly slipping away. I decided to look into a gym membership.
As I said we live a fair peice away from town. It is only about a 20 minute drive, but that gets old if you have to drive it each day. Also that 20 minute drive only takes you to the outskirts of "town". Gold's built a gym on my side of the outskirts. I decided Monday to check them out and see what a gym membership would cost.
The facility is sweet; brand new everything. It is a huge sized gym. They have a fully manned nursery available so moms (like me) with small children can bring the kids AND workout! Grace loved it. She and Joshua played happily as I took a short guided tour. I met with the owner who laid out a payment plan for me. I got a Military discount (not much but...) and decided the payments would be worth it. I discussed it with my husband who said it would be fine. So I signed up and made an appointment with the Personal Trainer.
This morning at 11 I arrived back at the gym with my workout togs on. I was introduced to the Gym Nazi. He is HUGE. He shaves his head and knows every peice of equipment by heart. I expected a clipped German accent but got Bronx Italiano. So he's not a Gym Nazi but rather Mafia Muscle. He was very personable but firm with me.
He ran me through a series of evaluation exercises. He told me I was not in "that bad of shape" but that I have a LOOOONG way to go! No surprise to me. He talked to me at great length about what kind of physical shape my body is in. He instructed me about working hard at the gym and making sure I was committed to working through my issues. He started winding down his talk and I thought that we were done; but noooooo. "SO!...Let's get started!" Huh? more exercise? We worked on legs until I was like jello. Then we ( say we but it means ME) made a stab at abdominals. It was laughable. I was huffing and puffing and making little to no progress. Oh well. He was encouraging but realistic. I need honesty and he was brutal.
I am at 30% BF (bodyfat). Even though I "look good" I am nothing but mushy fat. Hey, I knew that! He says it will take a YEAR of hard effort to get to 18% BF. Whaaaat?? A YEAR? Wait, I don't have a year. I don't care about bodyfat! I am taking the APFT on January 7th. He patiently drew diagrams spouted some scientific sounding stuff and convinced me that slow but steady is the way to do this. So we settled on two goals. One long term goal: 18% BF in a year. One short term goal: Passing the PT test January 7th, 2006. Then he lowered the boom.
"Mrs. Fields, you have a serious (short term) goal to make in four short weeks. You need someone to take you to that level in a way that I cannot." He looked and sounded like a physician who was giving his patient some weighty news (no pun intended). He leaned forward on his desk and continued "I could make up a program for you but it would be pure speculation on my part and I don't think you want to waste your time or take any risks." Of course not! My health is at stake! Oh wait, not really. But I want to make recruiter? Do I want to attend Army schools? Army schools EXPECT you to be able to PT and pass an APFT test.
He rested his arms across his massive chest and said "I want you to work with Silas...." SILAS!? Just his name sounded intimidating. "Silas works with the Policemen and the Firefighters to get them ready for their performance tests. He guides them through a pretty intense training cycle, similar to boot camp..." BOOT at 46 years of age?? My jiggly legs began to feel more like jello and quiver. "Silas is our best trainer. He can get you where you want to be by January 7th." I drew in my breath and nodded my head.
So I made a commitment to meet with Silas. Twice a week. At 5 am. Yes, that's not a typo. FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Be AT the gym at five, not get up at five. Boot camp, indeed. I can do this. I CAN do this! I WILL do this!
I collected Grace from the nursery and wobbled my way towards the door. The Mafioso Strongman reminded me "Soak yourself for an hour in the tub tonight Mrs. Fields, you're going to need it."
And I am paying for this!
As I said we live a fair peice away from town. It is only about a 20 minute drive, but that gets old if you have to drive it each day. Also that 20 minute drive only takes you to the outskirts of "town". Gold's built a gym on my side of the outskirts. I decided Monday to check them out and see what a gym membership would cost.
The facility is sweet; brand new everything. It is a huge sized gym. They have a fully manned nursery available so moms (like me) with small children can bring the kids AND workout! Grace loved it. She and Joshua played happily as I took a short guided tour. I met with the owner who laid out a payment plan for me. I got a Military discount (not much but...) and decided the payments would be worth it. I discussed it with my husband who said it would be fine. So I signed up and made an appointment with the Personal Trainer.
This morning at 11 I arrived back at the gym with my workout togs on. I was introduced to the Gym Nazi. He is HUGE. He shaves his head and knows every peice of equipment by heart. I expected a clipped German accent but got Bronx Italiano. So he's not a Gym Nazi but rather Mafia Muscle. He was very personable but firm with me.
He ran me through a series of evaluation exercises. He told me I was not in "that bad of shape" but that I have a LOOOONG way to go! No surprise to me. He talked to me at great length about what kind of physical shape my body is in. He instructed me about working hard at the gym and making sure I was committed to working through my issues. He started winding down his talk and I thought that we were done; but noooooo. "SO!...Let's get started!" Huh? more exercise? We worked on legs until I was like jello. Then we ( say we but it means ME) made a stab at abdominals. It was laughable. I was huffing and puffing and making little to no progress. Oh well. He was encouraging but realistic. I need honesty and he was brutal.
I am at 30% BF (bodyfat). Even though I "look good" I am nothing but mushy fat. Hey, I knew that! He says it will take a YEAR of hard effort to get to 18% BF. Whaaaat?? A YEAR? Wait, I don't have a year. I don't care about bodyfat! I am taking the APFT on January 7th. He patiently drew diagrams spouted some scientific sounding stuff and convinced me that slow but steady is the way to do this. So we settled on two goals. One long term goal: 18% BF in a year. One short term goal: Passing the PT test January 7th, 2006. Then he lowered the boom.
"Mrs. Fields, you have a serious (short term) goal to make in four short weeks. You need someone to take you to that level in a way that I cannot." He looked and sounded like a physician who was giving his patient some weighty news (no pun intended). He leaned forward on his desk and continued "I could make up a program for you but it would be pure speculation on my part and I don't think you want to waste your time or take any risks." Of course not! My health is at stake! Oh wait, not really. But I want to make recruiter? Do I want to attend Army schools? Army schools EXPECT you to be able to PT and pass an APFT test.
He rested his arms across his massive chest and said "I want you to work with Silas...." SILAS!? Just his name sounded intimidating. "Silas works with the Policemen and the Firefighters to get them ready for their performance tests. He guides them through a pretty intense training cycle, similar to boot camp..." BOOT at 46 years of age?? My jiggly legs began to feel more like jello and quiver. "Silas is our best trainer. He can get you where you want to be by January 7th." I drew in my breath and nodded my head.
So I made a commitment to meet with Silas. Twice a week. At 5 am. Yes, that's not a typo. FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Be AT the gym at five, not get up at five. Boot camp, indeed. I can do this. I CAN do this! I WILL do this!
I collected Grace from the nursery and wobbled my way towards the door. The Mafioso Strongman reminded me "Soak yourself for an hour in the tub tonight Mrs. Fields, you're going to need it."
And I am paying for this!
posted by SGT Lori at 17:56
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