I went, more than somewhat trepidatiously, to the first trainer-dictated workout. Actually, no, trepidatiously is putting it too kindly. I was just not looking forward to it at all.
The workout went something like this:
12 minutes of This Will Probably Make You Puke (crosstrainer, I only lasted 8 minutes because I didn’t want to puke)
8 minutes of I Can Do This One Forever (cycling)
6.5 minutes of This Wouldn’t Be So Bad If I Had Any Back Muscles At All But I Don’t So It Hurts (rowing)
Then the weights:
3×15 reps of I’m Actually Good At This One But It Requires All Of My Concentration Because I Default to Pliés (squats)
3×10 reps of My Left Knee Is A Lot Weaker Than I Think It Is (walking lunge)
3×15 reps of Oh Thank God Bodyweight I Can Deal With Bodyweight (shoulder/lats/chest pull thing)
3×15 reps of If I Used A Higher Weight I Couldn’t Do This But This Isn’t Too Bad (lateral lifts)
3×15 reps of I Have Never Been So Grateful For A Weight Machine (chest press)
3×1 reps Of I Can Only Do This For 15 Seconds, Take It Or Leave It (plank)
Improbable Number Of You Have Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me (inhumanly awful variation on the plank. my sister could probably do 12,000 of them. i can almost do one. i’m supposed to do…more than one.)
It is, I would say, a pretty good workout. I hate the crosstrainer but I’ll give it a go for a while. Perhaps until I can do 12 minutes of it. :p Many of the other things I can’t do 3×15 reps of. More like 1×15, 1×12, 1×10, but that’ll do.
I was not in pain when I left. No, no, I was *numb*. Possibly I wasn’t in pain because I had a headache before going to the gym, so took some ibuprofen, which has since been topped up because I don’t want to be in pain. o.o
I did, however, sit at the dinner table staring so vacantly out the window that Ted laughed at me, and I suspect that Thursday (I’m writing this Wednesday evening) is going to be full of (perhaps hilarious) agony.
Anyway, so the trainer guy says “we’ll start with squats” after the cardio and I was like “crap, squats, ok, they’re very, very hard for me to do because I grew up dancing and it’s completely unnatural and wrong to stick my butt out in what should to me be a plié.” So I concentrated Really Hard, which honestly involves standing there struggling to override muscle memory and staring at the wall for about half a minute until I’m pretty sure I’ve remembered how to do the squat, and did my reps.
Trainer guy was like, “…okay, after your explanation I was sure I was going to have to correct your form, but that was like Olympic-quality squat form there.”
I was like, yeah, no, I can *do* them, I just have to concentrate REALLY HARD. :)
“I wasn’t mean, and didn’t give you triceps,” he told me cheerfully, “because I figured you might want to be able to move your arms a LITTLE bit tomorrow.” But let me tell you, brothers and sisters, what I’ve done was quite enough for my triceps to wonder what the hell I thought I was doing.
I won’t be going to the gym Thursday but I think I’d *better* go on Friday to shake some of the anticipated pain out of my limbs, even though we’ll have a visitor. Oi.