Trainer

Fashionably Fit

~ fitnessdammit ~ Leave a comment

While I’m sure most of us would never admit to putting much thought into what we wear to the gym, I’m going to put it out there now and say that I absolutely do. But it’s not what you think.

Sure, Merriam-Webster recently added “athleisure” to the dictionary and workout gear is now just as fashionable and acceptable at a bar or restaurant as jeans and a moto jacket, but the fashion show I put on at the gym takes a different approach.

It all started when I joined the fancy gym and realized it would be a while before I could rock the Lulu leggings and skimpy strappy tops that all the beautiful people wore. Intimidated as I was but not about to back away from my fitness goals I decided the only thing to do was embrace my inner goon and fly that flag via t-shirts that would convey current workout moods and maybe get a laugh or a smile out of my fellow gym rats.

So this post is dedicated to my favorite gym tees. You’d be surprised how much confidence a clever top can give a girl trying to find her way to fit. Enjoy!

casseroles

This handy little “reminder” tee was my first and I thought it was a good start because who doesn’t love a casserole? But you can’t chase casseroles when you’re chasing your fitness dreams. Dammit.

adios-pantalones

“Adios Pantalones” is def one of my favorites. I have it in a tank and a tee. I wore it the first time I worked out with Trainer and he said, “I’m sorry, but does your shirt say ‘goodbye pants?'” And I said, “Yes. Yes it does.”

hella-fresh

An oldie but goodie, I love wearing this to the gym. It speaks volumes about who I might be as a person.

merde

“Merde.” It means “shit” in French. And it’s perfect for ballet barre classes.

sheeeeit

This one says it in English but with unmistakable attitude. It’s for days when I’m really not feeling it but I go anyway.

lay-off-me

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, saving the best for last… THIS. Chris Farley telling the Gap Girls, “Lay Off Me I’m Starving” because, well, I’m sure it’s how most of us feel ALL OF THE TIME. 🙂

 

 

 

I Found My Hips!

~ fitnessdammit ~ Leave a comment

Sure, that is a strange statement for anyone whose hips have never gone missing. And until you try to swing or deadlift a kettle bell, you may never know yours are. But it was the first thing Trainer noticed when we started working out at the beginning of the year.

First, though, I need to back up and tell you why we were focusing on these types of movements in the first place. I have a fitness goal that, up until now, only Trainer and Gym BFF have known about and that is to get a butt. Because I don’t have one. I go from back to leg and it isn’t pretty. I’m not saying I want Kim K’s caboose but I’d really like something a little more 3D than the flat surface that’s happening back there now.

So, whoomp there I was, a woman dedicated to booty barre classes, lunges, squats and stair machines, fully aware that I was working my butt off to try and get a butt. For months I did all of these things, and while I was seeing amazing transformation in other body parts, my butt wasn’t budging. Or bulging. It was still flat as a pancake.

I set out to solve the great mystery of why doing all these booty exercises was getting no booty results and discovered that I’m not shy when it comes to talking to people about my booty – or lack thereof. I posed the “what gives?” question to friends, trainers, coworkers and even strangers in my quest to learn more about backsides.

I visited a friend in Colorado recently and as we compared fitness regimens I mentioned my booty issues. She said she went through the same thing and finally got the booty she wanted when she mastered deadlifting. I told her about my “missing hips” problem and she said I needed to find them quick because it’s the only thing that’s ever worked for her. And after making her turn around so I could see her butt I said, “Mm hmm, on it.”

As soon as I got back from CO I met with trainer and was all, “We have to find my hips!” so we did a back-to-basics training session to assess any movements I was getting wrong. And just a few squats in, he discovered my problem: over-developed quads. My quads were so strong they were doing all of the work in my lower body workouts.

That’s when the lightbulb turned on and it all started to make sense. As a college soccer player and later cyclist, I’d created quads of steel and the muscle memory there was equally strong. My quads had come roaring back and that, in turn, had allowed my glutes to be lazy. Really lazy. Like pancakes taking a nap. And it was time to wake them up.

img_0826
This picture was taken about the same time and a friend wrote #QuadGoals in the comments so it was all starting to come together.

With this valuable piece of the puzzle in place we focused on exercises that isolated my glutes (one-legged leg presses are my new favorite thing) and I made a conscious effort to give my quads a rest and make other muscles do the heavy lifting with squats, lunges, chairs and whatnot. Surprisingly, my new focus paid off fairly quickly and I nailed a 50lb kettle bell deadlift and swing in a session last week – after which Trainer yelled, “YOU FOUND YOUR HIPS!”

Oh happy day! I had! And now I stand an actual chance of getting a decent little booty going. I doubt it will be the kind anyone writes songs about but you can bet your ass I’ll rock some apple bottom jeans and boots with the fur when it gets here.

 

It’s Working.

~ fitnessdammit ~ 1 Comment

Adages are old for a reason. Turns out universal truths are fairly spot on. At least I’ve found that to be the case when it comes to fitness. If you work hard and eat right, you’re going to see some positive results.

I’ve been at this whole fitness game for a few months now and I’m starting to see some major changes. Since my last (somewhat frustrating) “Results” post, things have really turned around. I’ve lost 13 pounds. And while I’ve still got a way to go on the scale, the real difference is in my body composition. I’ve lost fat and gained lean muscle. I’m smaller, faster, fitter. (Is that even a word? I hope so.)

Those fitness goals I devoted my second post to? I’m ticking them off one by one. I’ve shaved 30 seconds off my mile and have worn a bathing suit in public. While I’m not quite ready for a bikini contest, I now feel comfortable enough to walk around one of the chicest pools in town in a two piece.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve conquered fitness fears I didn’t even know existed until I found myself doing them with ease and confidence – like becoming a regular on the free weights benches and navigating the circuit training area like a pro. I might be a disaster when it comes to step aerobics but I know six ways to Sunday using the TRX bands, how to load up a squat bar, and just recently blew my own mind by doing one-armed burpees. Whaaaaaaaaaaat?

And the real kicker? I didn’t flinch at my last weigh-in/measurements session when Trainer said “off with the tank top!” and broke out the fat calipers. Why? I knew there’d be less fat for him to pinch. And there was. When he did the math and delivered my results his exact words were, “Absolutely crushing it and doing it the right way!” It’s one thing to feel like you’re making progress but to have that progress validated by your favorite fitness guru is another thing entirely.

Which brings me to the Oscar speech portion of this entry where I thank the people who’ve helped make my success possible. In no particular order, because they all play a valuable role, I’d like to thank:

Trainer, for his brutal – but still kind – honesty, showing me the way and believing in me. He’s even started doing me a major solid when Gym Crush is nearby and I’m working out on my own by chatting me up and making me look good in front of him. Bonus!

Which brings me to Gym Crush. He may not know it but he has provided some serious motivation for getting my ass to the gym and working out like a champ when I’m there. My goodness, the man is perfection. *swoon

And last but certainly not least, my Gym BFF. She is my rock. Everyone should be so lucky to have a gym buddy like her. Not only is she my constant companion through brutal workouts and every type of fitness class you can imagine, she is my comic relief. She makes me nearly cry laughing as we plié and plank our way around the gym. (Seriously, she deserves own post and will have one soon so the world can learn all about our gym antics.)

So there you have it. A few of the keys to my success so far . I used to feel like the first image was an accurate depiction of what I looked like when I ran. But the pic that follows is actual proof of where I am now. And it feels pretty great.

little girl running meme    hb running

The Trainer

~ fitnessdammit ~ 1 Comment

It all started with a text. From him. I’d heard about him for sure. The brutal personal trainer at my gym who kicks your butt and pinches your fat. And now here he was on my phone screen, an unknown number offering his services.

My own friends had sold me down the river saying, according to the text, that I “would be able to benefit from (his) help.” What the hell did that mean? Did they just call me fat? Ugh. But they were right. I could use some help in that department because I had kind of let myself go in the last several months. They knew it. I knew it. And now this trainer knew it.

So after firing off a “how dare you?!” text to my once beloved girlfriends, I hit Trainer back and set up a fitness evaluation for early the next week. I even introduced myself when I saw him at the gym later that night because now that the cat was out of the bag there seemed to be no sense in hiding.

Well, that was, until I heard how the other girls’ fitness evaluations went. Friend One said he called her “squishy,” and he told Friend Two something along the lines of her having the “gait of a toddler.” These are two of my tiniest friends and women I consider to be quite fit. I am nearly twice their size and had fallen far out of anything resembling a workout routine. What on earth would he say to me? Actual fear started to sink in and I became a nervous wreck as I got closer and closer to judgment day.

It was a Tuesday. Trainer and I were sitting at a desk in an office, discussing my fitness history, goals and whatnot. It was, surprisingly, a pleasant conversation and a good reminder that I’d actually been a fairly fit person in the past – I was a college soccer player, I ran half marathons, and I’d logged thousands of miles as a cyclist in my day.

Trainer: So what happened?

Me: I dunno.

But I did know. I love food. I love drinks. And as much as I love running and jumping and climbing trees, there was no way I could do enough of that to counterbalance my love of mac n cheese, tacos and craft beers. (To be fair though, most days I eat pretty healthy. It’s just that when I go off the rails, I GO OFF THE RAILS.)

So there I was. Time to face the music and step on that scale. Ho-LEE shit. Actual proof that I’d let myself go. I’m way too embarrassed to say what it said and I know that flies in the face of fitness blogging but TRUST ME. It was the highest number I’d ever seen on my end. However, before I could let that sink in, Trainer asked me if I had a sports bra under my shirt.

Huh? Yes. Why?

Because it was time to pinch the fat. Mortified, but committed to this journey, I took off my shirt and finally understood how contestants on Biggest Loser must feel at the weigh-in wearing only a sports bra and pants, with their fat rolls exposed for all the world to see. In my case it was just Trainer but STILL.

Oh, and have I mentioned that Trainer is hot? Well he is. Like, super fit and really cute. And if I’m going to take my shirt off for a hot dude, I certainly don’t want him pinching or otherwise acknowledging my fat. Miserable. So I just kind of pretended I was somewhere else while he used fat calipers to assess my body fat percentages.

When it was finally over, I put my shirt back on as he did the math on my Body Mass Index. It wasn’t pretty: 36.56% body fat. That’s borderline obese. OBESE? I’m not obese. I don’t look obese. I’m not sitting on a Hoveround in Walmart. How am I obese?

But I guess the numbers don’t lie and I have a lot of work to do. The good news is, Trainer says it’s doable and that I’ll be surprised how quickly I can turn things around and get myself back into college athlete shape. That last part is the extreme dream but he says it is possible. And I believe him. Now that we’ve been through all this ugliness together I trust him and am willing to put my fitness in his hands.

Now, if someone would just slip a ton of money into my hands so I can afford him. It ain’t cheap but I guess you can’t really put a price on health and happiness, eh?