it begins... again.

I'm back. And I have been whooped good.

I woke up this morning at 6 to be at the gym by 6:50 for my first personal training session.
My trainer is Mike. He is peppered throughout this website. He seems pretty nice, but man, he is a sick, sadistic, mofo.

He worked me for an hour straight. Started with a fit test of pull ups, push ups, sit ups, squats, running ladders, and plank. I wanted to die. Then we worked the machines, mainly upper body exercises, followed by outdoor total body work (burpees, jump squats, jungle climb, up-downs, punctuated by jumping jacks and running laps around the parking lot in between). Think Biggest Loser when the fatasses cry and whine about not being able to do anymore. Yup. That was me. Enter the fatass.

In the midst of all the exercises, I couldn't help but think what a fat, lazy sack of shit I've been, and how continuing to be that fat, lazy sack of shit got me to this point. It was truly painful, and I am ashamed of what I couldn't do. I was pretty much demoralized, but I'm hopeful that I will be able to hold my head up in a few weeks.

I was worried i wasn't going to make it home safely because my muscles were shaking so bad, and i felt light-headed. i guess that's a sign of a good workout? or a sign of my wimpiness.

homework for the week is writing down everything i eat and drink with calorie count.

I'm predicting I won't be able to raise my arms tomorrow, and am hoping that i won't be in so much pain that i will be able to survive another hour session on thursday. pray for me. hahahaha