So this past week was my birthday, the opening weekend of college football, and I took a trip to New York City to see a bit of the U.S. Open to see my athletic hero , Serena Williams (don’t you judge me). Needless to say, exercise and eating healthy weren’t exactly priorities. I came into my workout with Liz this Friday hoping to get back into the swing of things after an awesome week of derailing. My body, however, had other plans. As we got going my head started feeling lighter, my body started feeling heavier, and I was short of breath a lot. I think I dropped the F-bomb like 8 times on the first 8 exercises (I also think Liz keeps track of which exercises I drop the F-bomb during, because they seem to be coming back each week). I could see the concern on Liz’s face. She said, “maybe you should take a break. It’s going to look really bad for me if you pass out as my first client ever. Oh, and also, we want you to be okay.” While taking that break, I tried to think back as to why I was so exhausted. Liz asked, “How much water have you had today?” I looked up into my brain to try and recall, and responded, “Today? None. Yesterday…um…you know what? I can’t remember the last glass of water I’ve had this week.” End of workout.
Lesson learned: DRINK LOTS OF WATER ALL THE TIME.
Freshly hydrated from an embarrassing Friday workout, I was ready for Monday’s session. I literally chugged 2 gallons of water at work beforehand so that I would be fully prepared to be an all-star for today’s workout. We always start with a warm-up, which concludes with one of my F-bomb inducing exercises called the “Inch Worm”. Basically, you bend over with your butt in the air, walk your hands out into a push up position, and then walk your feet back up to your hands to the bent over position. And you do this across the gym. Clearly, you look really cool when you’re doing this. Nonetheless, I was powering through and avoided profanity in hopes that Liz would not make a note of my disdain for it and thus let it slide next time (doubtful). After the warm-up, we went over to do some squats. My squat form has been improving, and so Liz asked me to try and get a bit lower. Because I was feeling like a champ at this point and wanted to prove that Friday was a fluke, I got lower. I got so low, that I audibly ripped a gaping hole in the crotch of my shorts. Liz about fell over because she thought it was so funny. Meanwhile, I’ve still got 15 more squats to do and with each squat comes another rip. So, one would think that a personal trainer would target the rest of the workout so as not to expose my green boxer-briefs. Unfortunately, such was not the case, as Liz pulled out a new TRX move, the pike. Yes, the same pike you saw the Olympic divers do off the platform. But for me, my toes are strapped in the TRX handles, my hands are on the ground, and the goal is to get my butt as high in the air for everyone to see the giant hole in my shorts. At this point, I’ve gotten over any embarrassment at the gym, so it really was not a big deal. However, those pikes were a big deal on my abs. I felt those for the next couple days. Beyond the PG-wardrobe malfunction, I really felt like I killed it at the gym today.