Tuesday, August 3, 2010

"You will look like Jillian, only taller..."

And with that small inspiring phrase from a good friend, I see the light at the end of the tunnel...I can and will do this Projo Shape-Up challenge.

It started with a short reply to a request in the Projo looking for volunteers wanting to "shape up" for their reunion.  Well, I wasn't exactly looking to get in shape for my reunion. Well...let me correct myself.  I am not overly concerned about getting in shape just  for the sake of my high school reunion.   I graduated from an all - girl  high school and I am not looking to show any ex-boyfriend how well I've fared after three kids (but I have heard co-ed reunions do entail a little of that pressure).  But of course - who doesn't want to look good when connecting with folks they haven't seen in twenty years?  Kind of like running into someone you haven't seen in ages at the market when you stop in to pick up one item...after digging in your garden for hours in the blazing sun.  Not pretty.  And yes, that has happened to me.  Many times.  This reunion challenge provides me with the reason.


In any event, I sent my reply thinking that my note would be one of dozens looking to get on board with the whole reunion challenge.  Mine would never even get picked.  But - even if I wasn't picked I had a new goal date...yes.  My reunion.  I would become physically fit by that date.  It was decided. 

I would rise at the day's first light to walk...no run...around the loop in my neighborhood.  I would refrain from all cheese and wine.  I would break up with my bad food habits! Not that I eat BAD food...it's just that I eat waaaaaaaay too much good food.  Smoked salmon on little crostini with cream cheese and capers is a tasty snack once a day.  Not the three times a day that the salty little treats find their way into my mouth. 

However, it was only decided for about 72 hours.  I walked one evening with my friend around the loop.  I even refrained from my small glass of wine that I like to enjoy after the kids are in bed. Then - back to the old habits.  Rats!

"You've been invited to join the challenge..." The email appeared in my inbox.  GREAT!! Oh yes.  This is just what I need.  Yes, I reply. Of course I will join in the challenge.

Fast forward...take my photo at the Providence Journal downtown.  Check.

Show up for three foundations classes at CrossFit in Providence on three separate evenings. NO problem.

Might as well get started...the First Class of three.  Whew.

The first foundations class left me wondering...How??! HOW did I let myself get so terribly out of shape?  As I struggled to get through the weighted bar squats, wall-balls, and pull-ups, I kept telling myself...I CAN do this.  And I did.  I am no quitter.  At least not in the middle of the workout. 

I made it...I made it through the class.  I make it to my car.  Sitting there in the parking lot, I called my husband. I tell him, "I think I may throw up."  His reply: "It has to get better. Just come home".  Hmm. Not what I'm looking for. I call my dad.  "Dad, I think I may throw up.  And THIS is only the very first class."  His reply: "Ooh. That sounds pretty bad.  But you can do it." Fine.  I call my good friend D.   Me:  "I feel like I want to DIE." Him: "Well, I certainly couldn't do that routine. You couldn't pay me to endure that type of torture. But you birthed three kids, for g*d's sake. And besides, you're tough.  If anyone can get through it, YOU can."  Great, just great.  Put the key in the igntion.  Roll down the windows to keep the nausea at bay.  Drive home. 

I was begging for someone to tell me I was crazy.  Just throw in the towel. Not happening tonight.

Next day, I call my girlfriend early the next morning.  The one I committed to walking at the crack of dawn.  Yeah.  She's already awake and probably already walked the loop and painted half her house by now.  All before I've had my second cup of coffee.   Obviously, she's not someone who  shies away from hard work.  But, I do see her as a reasonable person.  Someone whose good judgement will steer me away from this workout insanity.

Me:  "J. You won't BE - lieve the routine I did last night."  I go through every movement in painstaking detail. I compare the whole night to an episode of the show, Biggest Loser. The pain, the agony, my inability to sit down without excruciating difficulty.  J. replies with some slight sympathy but also words of encouragement.

 But the one thing I remember are the few final words J. uttered that morning which were something like this, "But just think at the end of all this, you will look just like Jillian, only taller."  I laughed.  She laughed.  We both laughed. I DON'T remotely resemble Jillian Michaels.  But there you have it...

No great accomplishment happens without effort.  It's the effort that makes the success so sweet.  I can do it. 

I will look like Jillian - only taller.

1 comment:

  1. This is AWESOME, Taller Jillian! Good for you - the blog and the torture sessions behind it!

    ReplyDelete