Archive for May, 2009

Weighting on Inspiration

So, I decided that enough was enough. My pre-pregnancy jeans have been leaving button and zipper shaped patterns on my FUPA (Fat Upper Pelvic Area) for 10 months. The ‘ol muffin top has been spilling out far too long. If I want another pregnancy, I need to get rid of the remains of the previous pregnancy first.

First step. Find out how much I weigh.

I have always depended on the scale to keep me inspired. During a workout-obsessed, super body-conscious time in my life, Hubby challenged me to give up weighing myself for Lent. I gained 5 lbs.

That was after only 40 days. I haven’t weighed myself in nearly a year. Yikes. If I don’t regularly check my progress, I lose my drive. I start eating icing like soup…by the spoonfuls, I stop using a bowl for ice cream, and dinnertime? Portion control, shmortion control.

So, if I am going to be at all successful, I gotta keep tabs on those three digits that will define my self worth in the months to come.

I don’t trust my home scale. If I stand on it three times in a row, it will spit out three different numbers. The scale at the gyno, the one that weighed me throughout my pregnancy, could give me an accurate reading. Plus, it could compare what I weigh now with how much I weighed pre-second-pregnancy. That would motivate me, I’m sure. It made me want to schedule a pap smear yesterday.

But instead, I went to the gym. I relied on that scale faithfully back when I was in fully obsessed workout and weigh-myself-daily mode. So off to the gym I went to push the little black thingy too far to the right…and get inspired.

I had not been to the gym in four and a half years. They had added on and changed things around a bit, so when the nice lady offered to give me a *quick* tour, I agreed. I really didn’t want a tour though. I was so ready to let the scale in the locker room present me with my motivating moment of truth, then climb on the treadmill and self-loathingly run the fat off of my thighs.

As the tour began, I was shown a new therapy pool, yawn….an additional aerobic room, okay…An additional locker room, huh. Wonder if it has a scale too…

But wait, let’s not get too hasty…

A café with fruit smoothies and WiFi, eh? Two hours of child care?

This place is awesome! I’m so here everyday.

An hour into my *quick* tour, and I was ready to burst. Finally my new card was scanned and I was buzzed through the doors as an official member.

Into the locker room I dashed. Without missing a beat I spun the corner to the area beside the bathroom stalls to where the scale stood. Well, where the scale used to stand four years ago, that is. I ran around the locker room like a perverted peeping tom looking for the scale. Not in there. So I did the same seemingly perverted jog around the new locker room. No scale there either. Mother effer.

I ran out to the front desk and asked the nice lady who gave me the tour where the scale might be. She directed me to the workout center where I was informed that the scale was broke and would be back in a few days. Mother effer.

Well, might as well work out while I’m here, right?

I hopped on one of the brand new treadmills. It was fancy. Fully equipped with a touch screen and all sorts of confusing buttons. Maybe if I would have opted for the *long* tour, I would have learned how to use it.

The “Manual Start” seemed easy and familiar enough, so I pressed that button and it started me out at a slowwww pace of 1.0. I pushed the “up” arrow to speed up a bit. Push arrow..1.1, push arrow…1.2, push arrow…1.3.

This isn’t working.

So I pushed the “up” arrow and held it in. It quickly flew through the speed levels all the way to “10,” but the tread was still moving at a 1.3 pace.

Then I let go of the arrow.

That did the trick!! The pace instantly sped up to “10,” forcing me to grasp the sides of the treadmill with a white knuckle grip while my legs tried to keep up with the floor moving at 20 mph beneath me.

I continued to hold onto the side rail with one hand while I held in the “down” arrow with the other until it reached speed level “4.5.”

I walked briskly for a few minutes, wondering if anyone noticed and feeling like a fat dork. I thought I should make it look like I meant to use the treadmill for a run, so I sped up a little and started to jog.

I lasted three minutes.

Running is not at all like riding a bike. You forget. You forget how to breath, your muscles lose stamina, and you just can‘t pick it up again after almost five years. I used to be a fairly avid runner. Then I got pregnant and have not deliberately increased my heart rate for 20+ minutes since.

I spent 23 minutes on the treadmill yesterday, and still didn‘t increase my heart rate for 20 minutes straight. I had a five minute warm up, a three minute run, and a fifteen minute cool down.

…Maybe I’ll do better when they get the scale back in.

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May 1, 2009 at 4:42 pm 8 comments


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