Feel the Burn

Obviously this one is about getting back in the gym. My doc gave me the ok to start real exercising (as opposed to just walking) at 4 weeks, so I returned to NYHRC this weekend for the first time in over a month.

I have to say, on the whole it felt good to be back. I felt great to be more active, and I got that adrenaline rush you always get after the gym, thinking, "why the hell haven't I been here more often." Today was harder though, not because of the "day 2" but because I fell prey once again to my own inclination to be nice. Enter the pressure salesman of the local gym- THE PERSONAL TRAINER. Yikes. They are merciless as much as they are persistent.

"D" approached me when I was on the bike, 13 minutes in and feeling pretty good after having stretched all my muscles out in preparation. Then in he walked, first approaching a chick on the treadmill and then coming to me. I should have been smarter, I should have said I already had a trainer. I should have said anything but what I did say, which was sure, I'll take a free session. He came back with his calendar and signed me up for something next Sunday. Then came the clincher..., "I've got a few minutes before my next client. Let's get you started now."

"OK," I sheepishly mutter, climbing off the bike, my legs feeling like they've got steel boots strapped to each one now. That gooey feeling they get immediately after a bike session following a long break from the gym. I was in for it.

So he had me do stairs. Three stories x three reps. I got my albuteral after the second rep, and after the third I was dizzy, and wheezing, and thought I would either throw up or pass out. I was praying for the second one. Within minutes I was on the floor. Oops.

Don't overdo it they say....
Here's the thing..in between getting me more water, fanning me, and asking me repeatedly if I wanted an ambulance, "D" tells me he wants to get me back in for some training sessions. At least 3 or 4 a week, he says. He wants to help me tone up and lose weight. All this while I'm laying on back praying to the gods that my lungs start working again.

You've got to be kidding me.

I got away from "D" and finished my workout on the treadmill, walking it out for a couple of miles, and by the end I felt better. I felt like I'd make it home without dropping to my knees in the middle of the street, and I did.

No pain, no gain.