I’m Loving It

As it turns out, the only thing I needed to start loving my body again was a pair of jeans that fit.  Now, I’m actually kind of proud of my body and what I’ve accomplished.  Which is good, because it keeps me on the plan and away from ice cream.  However, I was promised “a shelf-like booty” and this program has dissolved my tush.  It’s flat, and even my new jeans are baggy there.

At a costume party last night, I went as a cheerleader since I fit into my old uniform from freshman year in college.  A lot of friends were there who I haven’t seen since the end of the summer, and they were all impressed with how I looked.  Maybe it was the uniform, maybe it was the general level of drunkenness, or maybe it actually was my hot body.  One nice thing about Jersey, though: nearly every single guy here works out like crazy, so I can always get advice on lifting and weight training.  (They can also lift me right up to stand on the bar and dance, should I so desire.  Sometimes even when I don’t desire.)

For those keeping track, I’ve lost a total of 8lbs, and 3″ off my waist.  Interestingly, due to injuring my right knee, my left thigh is now 1/2″ larger than my right.  It’s all muscle, too.

Today, I went for a 4 mile run along the boardwalk, and it was fabulous.  I’m so much faster than I was at the beginning of the summer, or even at the beginning of the fall.  I really think I may go back to distance running after this program is over.  At the very least, I’m going to kick serious butt at my family’s annual Thanksgiving Day race.

Most surprisingly though, and quite against my will, this program is changing my life.  I started out just doing this for fun, and I still am doing it for fun and enjoying it greatly.  Before, I loved my life even if I was rather laissez faire about it, but something about the discipline and the challenge is getting inside me.  Slowly, “pretty good” and “no complaints” aren’t cutting it for me.  It has become yet another nudge to get me to search for a way to leave my field and find an occupation I love when the year is out.  I want to live in a place with soft running trails and bike paths.  I want to have friends that go mountain climbing or skiing or surfing every weekend.  I want to cook healthy meals for the people I love.

I’m hesitant to admit how much this program is changing me, not just how I look, but who I am and the values I hold.  I’m even more hesitant about how much I love and admire the woman I’m becoming.

Quarters

At weigh-in today, I discovered I have now lost 8 lbs in total.  I fit into my cheerleading uniform from freshman year in college that was too small then.  I don’t need to button any of my jeans to take them off.  I need to go out and buy smaller sports bras (again).  The girls in the locker room have consistently complimented me on how good I’m looking.  I’m a third of the way done with my six-pack (the top two muscles are now defined).

 

We were talking today about the image we see in the mirror matching the image we see behind our eyelids.  Most of the girls are really excited because their images are getting closer and closer together.  In the mirror, they’re beginning to see their pre-pregnancy bodies, or the athlete they used to be in college, or the shapely woman they’ve never seen before but always knew existed. 

In my mirror, I see a girl with baggy jeans, a defined stomach, and muscular arms.  I could sharpen an ax on her calves and soon I’ll be able to bounce quarters off her stomach.  By most of today’s standards, she’s got a pretty nice body, and I can tell she’s worked hard for it. 

I have no idea who she is.  She certainly isn’t me.

A few weeks ago, I was always looking in the mirror out of vanity, now I’m trying to reconnect this image with the one I see in my head.  Aside from the baggy jeans, my personal style has changed.  I wear a lot of sneakers, instead of my boots and metallic flats.  Almost everyday, I pull on one or two athletic dry-fit shirts and a fleece, instead of oxford shirts and a tight, cable knit sweater.  I think I’d wear track pants if I could get away with it.  I’ve exchanged glittery lipgloss for menthol chapstick.  It’s almost like I’m trying to hide behind an athletic persona–using it to explain why I look the way I do, as if it only happened by accident.

A friend of mine from the class just called.  I’m going to go work out with him.  He’s a wise introspective guy.  Maybe he can help me figure this out.

I’m So Glad I’m Straight

They weighed us again today.  I’ve lost 6.5 lbs.

In the locker room today after class, there was a line of half-naked girls in front of the mirror examining their stomachs.  I was one of them.  We were looking to see if we’d started to develop any sort of packs, or those sexy hip-bone lines.  There was some success.  Still, I can’t wait to really be able to see some definition in my abs.  In truth, we were really being much too vain.  I would have been so embarrassed to have been among a group of guys doing the same thing.  (Still, I hope they have their own bonding activities going on behind their own closed doors.)

We worked hard in class.  Again, I was inspired by the super in shape Claire (not her real name).  When the trainor gave separate exercises for the guys (they did push-ups, girls did advanced plank), she just went right along and did what the guys were doing.  So I did too.  I didn’t last too long on the push-ups.  But when the girls were doing tricep kickbacks, and the guys were doing curls and military presses, I joined the guys.  For the first time in my life, I used a bar instead of dumbbells on those.  Maybe I’m more butch than I give myself credit for.

After class, though, I was so hungry that I not only ate my snack, but also half of dinner.  It’s okay, I’m going to a concert tonight and guaranteed to burn it off while dancing.

The Bad and the Beautiful

The Bad: 

In the locker room, the girls are always gossiping about our successes and our problems.  Recently, we’ve all been concerned with this persistent dry mouth–it’s gone on for about a week now.  We’re fully hydrated and we’ve traded secrets in our attempt to solve the problem.  (Where do you think I learned about watermelon Trident?  And almond oil is amazing for the chapped lips.)  Today, we finally asked the trainer what to do about it, since those were only temporary fixes.  Turns out, the cotton mouth, combined with the occasional bout of dizziness and fatigue and more frequent bruising, are signs of anemia.  There’s very little red meat in this diet.  So, I’m off to make an appointment with my pcp to get tested. 

 

The Beautiful:

We’ve also all noticed how clear our skin has become.  The only make-up I’ve been using recently is a bit of mascara and a touch of blush.  Apparently, it’s the lack of dairy.  They’re slowly going to be reintroducing it this week, but I might just ask them to keep it out of my diet for good.  I’m already lactose intolerant, and this may be the final push I need to quit dairy forever.

 

Also:

We can start having a small amount of caffeine again.  We can now add condiments like cinnamon, brown mustard, tabasco, and vanilla extract.  Tomorrow for breakfast, they gave us oatmeal!  I have never been more excited for a simple meal in my entire life.  With a cup of Earl Grey, I may just be the most contented girl on the planet.

An Honest Assessment

I realize that my posts to this blog are generally after a workout, when I’m high on endorphins, or when I’m exhausted, craving, and ready to cry.  Those are the two extremes, but for the most part, it’s not like that.  So coming up on 14 days, here are my thoughts:

This program is not focused on health, or wellness, or even fitness.  To be sure, those will hopefully be the byproducts of the process, but everyone is here to sell workout videos.  They’ve invested a significant amount of money in me: meal delivery at $50/day, working out 6 days a week with a trainer who normally trains the Victoria Secrets models, and a membership to one of the most exclusive clubs in Manhattan.  So no doubt, they want to keep me happy and healthy so I stay in the program.  But at the end of the 90 days, they are looking for a beautiful picture, not necessarily an improved Maria.

This diet we’re on is not exactly healthy, nor is it replicable in real life, or sustainable in any life.  I haven’t eaten a whole grain in almost two weeks now.  All the kale and fiber pills in the world couldn’t keep my digestive system on track.  Finally, I resorted to the trainer’s own personal remedy just to get things moving again.  (It worked, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant–it was some alchemy of mixing powders and liquids.  No joke, it contained chlorophyll, in liquid form.)  Plus, my mouth is oddly dry all the time.

It’s obvious a chef has prepared the food, because it does taste good.  There’s tons of variety, too.  I’ve tried so many different things I never would have eaten on my own. 

For the first time in years, I don’t crave sugar, and I don’t have any blood sugar crashes.  In the mornings, I wake up easily and well rested.  I may miss the smell and the warmth of coffee, but I certainly don’t need or miss the caffeine.

I miss snacking.

The workout is intense, but my body’s gotten used to it.  It’s obvious I’m stronger.  I’ve added additional weights twice now.  Plus, I’m working out with the same people everyday, and we motivate each other.  Maybe it’s just the cheerleader in me, but I don’t let anyone get discouraged.  When I’m lagging, someone’s always there to push me harder.

The trainer really, truly knows what he’s talking about.  I think some of it’s a little extreme, to be sure, but it’s never bad advice.  He knows how the human body works and functions, and knows how to make it function better.  I’m picking up a lot from him on how to train myself after these 90 days are over.

The support staff is also top notch.  They’re accessible, positive, and always ready to help.  If we weren’t restricted from alcohol, I’d love to go out for a few drinks with them.

The toughest part is dealing with my social life.  I haven’t quite figured it out yet.  Mostly, I miss meeting friends and going out to a restaurant, sitting down at a beautiful table, ordering delicious food, having great conversations and sharing some drinks and some laughs.

The best part is clearly the change I’ve seen in my body.  They weighed us on Friday, and I’ve lost 6 lbs altogether.  I can almost (but not quite) slide my jeans down my hips without unbuttoning them.  My stomach is thinner, and I’m just starting to be able to see the lines of my hipbones and my obliques.  All of my muscles are becoming more defined.  We’re only 12 days into the program, and already I’m happy to be seen publicly in my sports bra.  The results are a motivation in themselves. 

I don’t know how much of this I will maintain after the 90 days.  Directly after the program ends, I’d like to take a vacation someplace warm to show off my new body.  I love working out again.  I’m definitely going to keep up with training–perhaps look for a new sport, or at least a road race or two to keep me motivated.  The diet I’ll quit.  I like cheeseburgers and beer too much not to quit.  But I’ll remember what a correct portion size is.  And I love my sugar free candies too much to go back to lifesavers.

With Relish

I can start to see my body changing.  In the mirror before class I can see that my muscles have more definition.  My biceps and triceps are beginning to pop.  There’s a line of shadow running down my thigh, delineating my quads.  The dividing lines in my calves are visible (especially in these heels today–wowzers!)  When I put my hands on my hips, there’s a little bit of waist there, where there never used to be.

I’m not there yet, but I already carry myself like I have a rocking hot body.

So today I was especially bummed when I had to modify so many exercises not to hurt my knee.  Some of the jumping exercises I did by only putting pressure on my healthy leg, but really, who wants a lopsided butt?  I know rest is needed to heal, but I also know I’m not getting the calorie burn and heart rate levels I need to be.  Tomorrow morning, I’m going to try one of those spinning classes at the gym.  I’ve hated them in the past, but this might be a necessity.

Late at night is when I have the most trouble with the diet, when I want to eat an entire box of chewy oatmeal cookies.  But I have a new, oddly satisfying habit: I go into a bakery selling delicious pastries.  I walk up to the bakery counter and peruse everything they have.  I pick out what I would have if I were having.  I pick out second and third choices.  I inhale the delicious smells of bread and sugar, then I turn around and walk right back out.

Fat Man

This makes me feel very shallow, but it’s true nonetheless.

This morning on the subway, I saw a fat man open a large package of grape fruit snacks.  I wanted those fruit snacks so badly for about 20 seconds.  Then I saw that his stomach was already testing the strength of the buttons on his shirt, and white hairy belly fat was trying to escape.  Unsurprisingly, I suddenly wanted a tight flat stomach much more than I wanted any kind of food.

Maria vs. Jeans

I just realized, the last time I wore this pair, they were a little tight.  Now they fit great.

Maria: 1

Jeans: 0

Lights! Camera!

Friday was the “before” photoshoot.

I was told to show up to a Chelsea studio, with workout clothes, jeans I loved but were too tight, and with my hair and makeup done.  It would take about an hour.

I had the first appointment of the day, and showed up half an hour early anyway.  This is a MUCH bigger deal than I first anticipated.  Clearly, I’m the only person taking this as a casual fun way to get in shape.  The studio was enormous and full of professional people attached to the program.  By the end, I still couldn’t figure out the job descriptions of half of them.  One girl’s sole purpose seemed to be assuring people they would look great in 90 days.

They signed me in, took my bag, and sent me off to Hair and Make-Up.  A woman with the hair and complexion of a lioness clucked over me.  She set me up under a giant spotlight, unrolled a small armory and set to work.  Amidst clouds of powder and hairspray, I hazarded a glance in the mirror to find that I looked no different than when I first sat down.

Next, upstairs to wardrobe, where a tiny women in a blue dress and flipflops asked to see the clothes I had brought.  “Much too conservative,” she declared and promptly gathered up several sports bras and booty shorts and hustled me into a dressing area.  When I came out, she looked me over critically, asked me to turn around, rummaged around in a box, handed me a thong, and told me to change.  [Any pair of shorts that requires a thong are much too tight in my opinion, but she’s the professional.]

Once satisfied, she took me downstairs for inspection.  At least two people came over to discuss how I looked, but no one made eye contact or involved me in the conversation.  My shorts were too high, so they untied them and rolled them down [mind you, we’re in a studio full of people].  They plucked at the legs until they were even, and then began discussing bikinis.

The photographer and his assistants were very nice, but very insistent that I wasn’t allowed to smile.  Not even a little.  Not even with my eyes. 

Then I was whisked away to the videographer, and asked questions about my enthusiasm for the program.  Tricky that.  No one’s quite explained what the program is yet.  Also, it’s hard to talk to a camera when you’re wearing a bikini that’s intentionally too tight, even if they did pad the bra for me.

So, today at two, it all begins.  I get my first delivery of food, my first workout, and my marching orders.