At 5 am this morning, I had my first personal training session. When I filled out the paperwork at the gym the other day, they handed me a worksheet with blank lines to write my goals down. It came as a surprise to me when I couldn’t think of a single one. I’ve worked hard and I’m pretty happy with the way I look. I feel like this is the best shape I can get for the time I put in, and still eating treats when I want. I don’t know how much I weigh because I put my scale in the closet and don’t plan on taking it out. I can’t give a number of pounds I want to lose or a weight I want to be at, because it’s not about a number.
I’m assuming these worksheets are for the people who’ve never worked out a day in their life and sign up for this to make a big change. They write down the number of pounds they want to lose, and the size pants they want to wear. The focus on numbers, one at a time. But what about me? Why am I doing this?
Beauty is a funny thing. I’m completely comfortable and confident with my body until I start comparing it to others. I’ll browse the fashion category on Pinterest and see skinny little legs that I’ll never have, because that’s not my body type. On better days, I’ll look at my reflection and admire the definition in my shoulders that has developed since I joined the gym last spring. I’m proud of the changes I’ve made by being persistent. And when I flex the right way, I look like the Hulk, almost. And that makes me feel tough, and I’d rather be tough than a skinny, breakable twig.
So this morning when I completed my first session, I felt amazing. My trainer used positive encouragement the whole time, and even made me laugh (not easy to do during ab sets). He provided that extra push I’ve been needing, to go a little faster, and do just five more reps. And then five more after that. So that’s why I’m doing it. For the push, and for that great feeling afterwards, that I did something amazing.
Have a great weekend, and do something amazing.