OK, so remember that post I made about a year ago. The one where I said my goal was to lose 60 pounds before my wedding. Well, it didn’t happen. And I’m OK with it.
I had a beautiful wedding, in a beautiful dress, and even though I am confident I didn’t lose a single pound after I made that post, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Fast forward to 13 months later, here I am, still overweight and fighting my battle. And here I am writing yet another blog post about how I am starting again, but this time I am going to do it.
Will I succeed? Who knows, but I have to try.
Four months ago I told myself I had to get some kind of accomplishment under my belt before posting again, or I couldn’t take myself seriously, let alone expect anyone else to. Here’s a wrap of from then to now…
After the wedding last year, my new sister in law introduced me to her gym. One where there is a lot of structure, no open gym, all workouts are classes led by a personal trainer.
She told me about the gym’s 49-Day Shred program she was participating in, where you were expected to attend classes 5-6 days per week, add in cardio, and follow a strict meal plan.
Honestly, it sounded terrible, but just what I needed.
About ½ way through her shred, I decided to join the gym, carefully watching her progress with the shred, asking questions, learning my way around the gym, and mulling over whether I would sign up for the next shred.
Around Thanksgiving time, I decided I was going to sign up for the next shred, which started the first week in January. My goal was to lose 20 pounds in the seven weeks.
I figured it would be best to ease myself into it, so I went to the Tuesday night Shred class, which consisted of 90 minutes of weight training in roughly four-minute intervals with cardio exercises in between stations.
It was during that workout I realized I made a HUGE mistake. There was no way I would be able to complete another one of those workouts.
It was the hardest workout I had ever done. Half a dozen times during the workout I considered just getting up and walking out. I finished on the verge of tears. When my sister-in-law asked me what I thought, the dam broke and I started crying. I told her how embarrassed I was to have done as badly as I did. How I couldn’t breathe. How everything hurt. There was no way I could go back.
She gave me a pep talk, (the first of many) as did several other gym-goers as they were leaving, some I knew, others, I didn’t.
I think that was the first time I got a taste of the gym family that had been developed. That night, several gym members sent me messages of encouragement and the trainer reached out to me to say I did well.
My goal was no longer to lose 20 pounds. It was just to make it to the other side of the shred without quitting.
Reluctantly, I went back the next day, and the next, and the next. I started the shred, and slowly but surely, things got easier. Not easy, but there was definite progress with how I was feeling during and after workouts, and I was gaining strength.
Long story short, and eight weeks later, I finished my first Shred and am down about 10 pounds and 28 inches. I am anxiously awaiting my before and after photos.
I certainly didn’t lose the 20 pounds I was hoping for. But I did something better. I finished the program. One that, eight weeks ago, I didn’t think I had a chance of finishing.
I am sure I will write more about this program from time to time. I really think this gym will be the difference between my quitting (again) and reaching my goals. Whatever those may be.