A heavy subject: part 2.

My overall quest to compete in the next IronMan continues.

Alright, alright...that is not my goal. But my ego is still a little bruised and I am still stinging from the whole "25% body fat" sentence. So I'm thinking if I weigh (pun intended) what I really want to do next to something that is most likely completely unattainable for me right now, like doing an IronMan, my current goal will seem much easier. Kind of a bait and switch of my own design. A jedi mind trick of my own doing. A...well, you get the picture

I suddenly feel like I am obligated to tell my dirty little secret to people I know. Like alcoholics who say they can't drink, I feel like I should warn people. Like the next date I go on.

"Yeah, I'm slim and cute...but underneath it all, I have a deep dark secret. I...I...am secretly unhealthy. However, my trainer assures me that I also, at the same time, have an elite level of cardio strength. So all is not lost."

Yeah, I'm sure the offers will be just ROLLING in after that. Eh, maybe we can just keep this between you and me?

Last night I took advantage of the free Pilates session with Miyoki. Hilarity ensued as she strapped me to machines that looked like torture devices and had me contort my body in the most unnatural poses I have ever experienced. You have to remember, I danced ballet for ten years. So they said it should remind me of that. Unfortunately, it didn't. At all. Moreover, when I did not get the pose, Miyoki (my fun little Asian friend who I was twice the height of) would grind my body into the correct one. She was also no-so-good with English, so any attempt to clarify what I was supposed to do just resulted in more confusion. I am thinking Pilates is probably not for me but it was kind of cool to check it out, regardless.

Then this morning at 7am I met with Bryant. You remember Bryant...he was the brave soul who basically told me that even though I think I am slim and in great shape, the numbers say otherwise. I respect Bryant for his knowledge and insight. But I also secretly want to kick him in the teeth.

Anyway...

We had a little chatty-chat about my "long-term fitness goals" and "short-term fitness goals" in the posh lounge area of my gym. Think black leather couches, plasmas and an actual fireplace. There, in the Dr. Phil-esque setting for our "heart-to-heart", he asked what I had in mind overall.

"I want to lose 15 pounds," I said. And I do want to do this. But I also wanted him to say, Oh, that might be too much to lose.

"Ok," he replied. I gulped.

"What else?" he asked.

"I want to strengthen my upper body and lose the chub around my middle."

Again, "Ok." Yeah, this guy was for real.

He then took me through the gym and put me on certain machines to not only check my fitness level but to also make sure I actually knew how to use them. I was doing fine. That was until, he did the unthinkable.

He put me on the chin up machine.

I know this machine well. And I really don't like it. We don't get along. It is my bully of sorts. Keep in mind, though I am 30, my upper body strength equals that of a small, pre-pubescent girl. About 7 chin ups in, I was struggling.

"Bryant, you suck," I joked. (At least, I thought he could tell I was joking).

His face fell. Maybe I need to soften my approach, I thought. We moved on to the next machine.

At the end of the workout we made plans for my next session and I got a smoothie at the food bar. And so the saga continues...