You Say You Want To Hear My Body Talk? My Abs Can't Speak For The Rest, But They're Saying, "Um, Yeah. No"

Our tax refund this year was pretty good, so we decided to invest some of it on our overall health, since we have been going downhill for a while. As it happens, a former co-worker of M's is also a personal trainer, so we decided to hire her for a 12-week session.

The word from other clients M knows, as well as from the PT herself, is that the workouts are tough, and cursing from the victims often occurs. So we faced our first session on Wednesday night with some trepidation.

While I can't entirely speak for M, I found the workout to be mostly painless. I could definitely feel it, and I figured there was a pretty good chance that moving my limbs would be on an if-absolutely-necessary basis the next day (it wasn't,) but I could do most of it without wishing the torture would stop.

I did say most of it, because there were some upper and mid body incidents (it may be 16 years since my last days as a track athlete, but the lower body has still not forgotten its former glory, even if it longer resembles it.) My right triceps cramped so badly after the triceps workout (and after me working my right arm a little more with a weight when nobody was looking) that I couldn't finish an exercise that required my arms for support. The plus side (for that arm, anyway) is that by the end of the night it was much more stretched than my left arm, because, boy howdy, we did some stretching on that muscle.

I also discovered that one part of my abs is so weak that it can't even do the exercise to the point where it would get a chance to be uncomfortable. I was supposed to make a V with my body, but I couldn't hold up my legs for any length of time. So getting that part into shape could be a long road for me. Or maybe it was a balance thing. I don't know. PT seemed to think it was weak abs.

So that's one week out of the way and eleven more to go. They say the workouts are tough, but you come out of them a lot fitter. And once our sessions are over, it will be time to relocate PG to her new daycare at the Y (I'll have to see if I've mentioned that story yet - probably not) and we'll be working out there when we drop her off and pick her up. With a high school reunion a mere five months away, I can use all the help I can get.

(Post Title Reference: "Physical" by Olivia Newton John. You probably already figured that one out.)