I'm having a hard time getting to sleep tonight. I swear, this warm weather really messes me up!
I figured I'd hop online and share some a very exciting event.
My former trainer, the lovely Monika (see also: The Woman Crazy Enough to Whip My Booty into Shape) is hosting a very special outdoor exercise extravaganza!
Date: THIS SATURDAY, July 17
Time: 10:00 AM (sharp!)
Place: Bremen Street Park, East Boston, MA 0212 --> right of the Airport T Stop (Blue Line)
Cost: Only $20! And hundreds of calories, surely.
RSVP: Please respond here or shoot me an email (Rhea [dot] Kappa [at] gmail [dot] com) by Thursday evening so I can help Monika estimate attendance.
Bring: Yoga mat or towel, big
This is going to be a great time! I can't wait. I had never really worked out before I trained with Monika, and she helped me push myself to get incredible results. You can read all about my experience working with a trainer after the jump. Includes description of an oscillating fan caressing my once ample body.
I’ll never forget my first session with Monika. She led me into a room behind a locked door, a room replete with mirrors (back in a time when mirrors were a loathsome enemy to me) and a sound system blasting house music. Fans oscillated, blowing the hair of people exercising with other trainers, whose muscles glistened and moved in what, to my intimidated delirium, seemed like slow motion. Anyways, the reason I’ll never forget my first session with Monika is because of those fans. They didn’t seem to make much sense in January, but after 60 minutes of booty-kicking squats, dips and crunches, their wind was amazing. As I lay on the floor next to a trash can, the fan from the wind caressing my ample body with the grace of a thousand angels, Monika assured me it would get easier. And it did. But first, I would have to get back upstairs so I could stagger home to an Epsom-salt bath. Indeed, after our first session, the stairs leading up to the main level seemed insurmountable, like some sort of medieval torture designed to add insult to injury to those poor victims of the Smith machine who had to waddle back to street level.
Once I had my first taste of hardcore aerobic exercise and strength training, Monika sat me down and questioned me about my goals, motivation and support system. This came as a surprise, as I assumed a trainer was just a person who barked orders at their clients to move their fat butts faster. No, Monika talked to me, asked me questions, and listened. Then, she devised a plan of a combination of exercises that would work my entire body and give special treatment (spoiler alert: medicine ball crunches) to my most troublesome areas. In other words, she took what I had told her about my hopes for my body and created a routine targeted to those goals. That alone was impressive, but I was shocked when, session after session, no two were the same. This kept me eager to challenge myself and see what hurts-so-good work was in store for me next.
But it wasn’t all mountain-climbers and bicep curls. On the contrary, Monika imparted vast wisdom on the importance of a healthy, balanced diet as a complement to our workouts. Food journaling was an eye-opening exercise I would not have had the commitment or stomach for were it not for Monika and her magic highlighter. She taught me about lean proteins and smart carbs. I learned when to eat, and why. I drank glass upon glass of water. My skin improved. My once buttery belly rolls melted. I was famished when I sat down for a meal and savored each bite of food. It was like a culinary renaissance; I was not restricted in my dietary options, but rather awakened to a whole new realm of leafy greens and whole grains.
While my flexibility slowly improved, Monika’s, albeit a different type of flexibility, never waned. As a practical matter, Monika helped me schedule times to work out both with her and individually at the gym. When I had knee pain or unexpectedly got sick, she was quick to find an alternate time that worked for me.
Monika pushed me as I could never had pushed myself. She patiently counted out repetitions, then dutifully handed me a towel so I could mop up my sweaty brow (there were times when a drop cloth would have been more appropriate, but such large sweat-catchers are not conducive to the floor plan of most gyms). Her commitment to me and my health inspired me to care about my own body. She served as my drill sergeant and my cheerleader. Monika’s support did not end when each session did: she was always available via phone, email, or text. After particularly gruesome sessions, it was not uncommon for her to text me words of encouragement. They worked.
After three months, I lost 18 pounds. My abdomen was whittled to a whopping nine inches smaller than it was at the start of our sessions. I now have a passion for exercise and healthy eating that I never knew I could possess. Stuffing my “fat clothes” into a trash bag and hauling them to Goodwill exhilarated me. Shopping is fun; the mirrors at H&M are no longer my nemeses. My transformation would not have been possible were it not for Monika’s expertise, encouragement and kindness. Going to the gym and working with Monika was not the intimidating, humiliating experience I thought working with a trainer would be; rather, it was an enriching, inspiring journey. I would recommend Monika to anyone looking to set their goals and commit to their health.
She is probably going to make me do an extra 30 each pushups and burpees for being up this late. I'm telling you, she's crazy. See you Saturday!
No comments:
Post a Comment