Recommitting to Curves
This week, I resumed my membership at Curves. When they saw me walk through the doors, the circuit coaches visibly moved from shock, to disbelief, and, finally, to doubt. While this completely goes against the code of ethics by which every trainer/workout guide lives, I can honestly say these coaches have lost faith in my commitment to getting healthy. Not that I blame them. After all, it's been more than six months since I walked through the doors of Curves, but I am more determined than ever to finish what I started and shed this excess weight.
Almost as if to punish me for my transgressions, the coaches made me once more undergo the entire process of being weighed, measured, and assessed. I won’t go into the details of my body measurements, because I honestly don’t know them, but I will tell you this: I am 5’10” and currently weigh 213.5 pounds, and my total body fat is over 34 percent. This means that, since I graduated from high school almost 16 years ago, I’ve gained a whopping 65 pounds. And while I don’t intend to magically drop back down to 150 pounds, I do know there’s plenty of room for improvement.
Next, the coaches sat me down and asked what me about my weight loss goals. I told them I want to lose 30 pounds by May, which means that I will still be overweight, but certainly better off than I am right now. So, effective next week, I will receive a computerized meal plan for each day, starting with breakfast and ending with a nighttime snack. I am expected to show up at Curves between three and four times per week, and if I don’t, the coaches will hold me accountable by grilling me about my lack of commitment. I must also weigh-in once monthly to monitor my progress.
Back to the Grind
I have worked out three times total since my first visit back, and I can say in all sincerity that I still hate exercise just as much as ever. My muscles, particularly those in my arms, feel like lead every time I get on the resistance machines, and my lungs feel like they’re going to explode. I always start off the circuit full-throttle, filled with energy and eager to complete as many repetitions as possible. Of course this enthusiasm wanes in mere moments, and I end up cursing myself for getting into this situation in the first place.
But I’m trying, and, at this point, that’s more than I can say I was doing a week ago. The next obstacle is to just stay motivated. And, frankly, this is what worries me the most. I don’t want to have a good day next week where I don’t feel bloated or enormous and think, “Oh, I don’t really need to exercise. I’m fine the way I am.”
Honestly, I’m not fine the way I am because I feel so horrible about myself. I’m tired of avoiding mirrors, shying away from photos when friends pull out cameras, and worrying about what to wear as soon as I’m invited to any function. After all, how can I expect a lone shirt to hide 60 pounds of fat? It can’t, so fretting over my wardrobe has become agonizing as well.
I just don’t want to live like this anymore. If I was happy with my appearance, that would be one thing, but I’m not, and I don’t want to feel like this for the rest of my life. So I will give Curves a real and honest shot, and I will believe in myself even if nobody else does.