1 Year Anniversary

October marks my one year anniversary of going to the gym. The fact I managed to stick with this for an entire year is a HUGE deal...

Growing up I was always the scrawny and awkward kid. Sports were never my thing and gym class was the ever-dreaded hour that would inevitably bring about another opportunity for me to humiliate myself. As I was to enter Jr. High we moved to a new town and I started at a brand new school that had no idea as to the extend of my lack of coordination. The guys encouraged me to sign up for the basketball team and in an attempt to fit in I agreed. And while the guys that year were actually nice to me, I left every single practice feeling more and more dejected. There’s nothing worse than trying something with every ounce of your being only to fail miserably every single time.

When I went on to High School I was able to avoid sports entirely. Due to the insanely small size of my school (graduating class of 14) gym class was only offered one period a day. If you had a full academic schedule (which I always made sure I did) you could be exempt from gym class. The catch was you were supposed to engage in an after-school sports program to make up from what you were missing in gym, but luckily I slipped through those cracks. I became a full blown geek only interested in student council, theater and yearbook.

By the time I entered college my world was beginning to change for the better. I traded my geeky glasses in for contacts and felt semi-attractive for the first time in my life. In college I came out of the closet and was fortunate enough to have a great support network. Soon I started dating and had my first boyfriend. Things were great. Time goes by and I graduate college. I head out to DC and meet an amazing group of friends – Team Lady. I experience life with them and we all share our highs and lows, and life is really good. But despite all these great things, there is still that kid that resides within me that is awkward and hates the way he looks. A feeling that gets aided by the random dates and customers who poke fun at my scrawny arms or lack of a chest. One date told me he only dates someone who goes to the gym because “why should I let someone enjoy my muscles if he’s not gonna work to get muscle of his own”. And while I blew him off as just another arrogant prick, it still added to my own feelings of inferiority...

So finally last year, for all the wrong reasons, I made a resolution to get my ass into the gym and work on improving my body. I was terrified the first time I went there. I felt just like that kid on the basketball team again. I stepped in and knew I didn’t belong here. But I walked up to a trainer and ordered myself a package of 10 sessions to get me on my way. It was expensive as hell, but I figured having a sexy body should get me more tips so it should balance out somewhere. Charged it all to Visa...

Having a trainer was the best possible thing I could have done. For starters I had NO IDEA what to do in the gym, so having someone there to teach me was a godsend. Secondly it provided me incentive to go to the gym on a regular basis. I know me and if it were not for the fact I’d be throwing away $50 if I did not show up for my hour session, I would not have gone. By the end of my 10 sessions I had worked the gym into my routine, although I still didn’t feel I knew enough to work out on my own yet. So I pulled out the Visa card and ordered another 10 sessions.

I used the next 10 sessions to begin to build a workout routine of my own. I’d go to the trainer twice a week and then go once or twice on my own and practice working out on my own. Slowly I began to feel more confident without the trainer and eventually got to a place where I no longer broke into a sweat thinking about the gym and only broke out a sweat working out at the gym.

The other great thing about having a trainer for what ended up being 20 sessions is that it helped me from getting discouraged. By December of last year I was getting upset that I was working out for awhile and still hadn’t bulked up in any noticeable sense. I could notice subtle changes in my size and tone, but people in general never said a word. It wasn’t until January when everyone I met seemed to suddenly notice. Out of the blue people would just say “holy sh*t, when did your arms get so big”, etc, etc…

Also in January my father had a heart attack before he even turned 50. He recovered and is doing fine now, but that incident certainly provided further incentive for me to continue to work out and to incorporate more cardio in my routine. Heredity is a bitch sometimes…

And what about that scrawny little awkward kid inside me?? Well he’s feeling much better. More importantly than the physical transformation that happened, the mental aspect has been great. Overcoming such a fear of the gym was a huge hurdle for me. Feeling comfortable in my own skin for the first time has been amazing. Sure there are plenty of things I’d like to change about my body (get rid of my belly, scars and perpetually pale skin for starters) but those “flaws” are me. I change the things I can, and accept the things I can’t. On bad days I can still obsess over them, but overall I’m comfortable with my body. This is me for better or worse.