This morning, Trainer Rob tried to kill me. He tried to make me cry.
Okay, so I'm being melodramatic. He wasn't trying to kill me, or make me cry. But I felt like I was on the verge of both. He was pushing me. He sees that picture I posted yesterday every time I work out. He says things like “awesome recovery” and “great progress” with regards to my heart rate. Today, during our 5th session, he pushed me harder than ever, and I really, really had a hard time.
Was he being mean? No. Did I (temporarily) hate him? Yes.
You see, he would jack up the treadmill to some insane incline at some insane speed and I would have to keep up. My body, still hovering around 400 pounds, really doesn't like this. My mind, knowing that I'm around 400 pounds, is scared shitless.
With the treadmill, you HAVE to keep up. You either keep up, jump off, or fall off. My body hasn't ever been pushed like that before- even when I was thinner. Even though the sprints were only 1 minute each, my body and mind just weren't in sync. My mind was SCREAMING for my body to stop, then Trainer Rob is telling me NOT to stop, that I can do it. There were a few times today when I gasped for air and said “please, no!” when he would up the speed or incline. I just KNEW I was going to fall off- my legs buckling under my weight and out of pure exhaustion, and my ass on the gym floor.
To add insult to injury (or non-injury, as it was), he had me get on the stair climber. WTF? The stair climber? My mind was terrified of getting on that thing. My body was tired from the treadmill. He put it on the slowest rate possible, and I got on. I hated it. Even at the slowest speed, my heart rate was in the upper end of my “medium” zone. Again, just like the treadmill, you HAVE to keep up on the stair climber. You either keep up or fall off. Again, my mind was so scared of falling off because a 400 pound person surely CAN'T do this. He sped the machine up for my minute sprint. I fought my mind the entire time. My mind was telling my body that I couldn't do it. The fear was palpable. The fatigue in my legs was indescribable.
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting back up every time we do.
I did it.
I did not fall off.
I did not die.
I did not cry.
When it was all said and done, the cramp in my side faded, and that puking feeling went away. I did it.
It's been about 5 hours since that workout ended, and my body is already sore all over (we also did a couple of weight training circuits). My legs feel like jello. I'm waddling around like a penguin. But I feel great.
What is the lesson in this? Sometimes, our brains need an off switch. We build up these walls of “I can'ts” and “That will hurt” and “that's impossible” and all of this nonsense for why we don't do certain things. 400 pound people can't jog sprints. 400 pound people can't do stair climbs. 400 pound people can't hold plank position. 400 pound people can't be fit.
Today, my body (and Rob) proved me wrong. This 400 pound person CAN do all of those things, and CAN be fit. Instead of crying tears of utter fear and pain as I wanted to earlier, I now want to cry tears of joy that progress is being made. This is just the beginning.
On another note, I went to the doctor yesterday for some follow up blood work. He tested my thyroid again, and ordered several other tests to check out hormones and insulin and such. Hoping the results will come back quickly, but it could be a couple of weeks before I find out anything. Doc thinks there might be something else that might be holding my body back from releasing the weight. We're also still monitoring the pitting edema. I'll keep you posted.
Happy 4th of July to my US readers. I'm off to a cookout with hubs and the in-laws.