No, I'm not ill and no one in my immediate family is ill, either. But I've been fat for too long and I'm now rolling down the hill from fifty-three. I don't want to be decrepit when I'm seventy--the way things are going, I might get to retire about then and I want to travel. And you can't go walkabout in the Outback if you can't make it up a flight of stairs.
So I have started Crossfit workouts. This morning was the end of my first full week. The first day was an introduction to see what I can and can't do. Oh. Mah. Gawd. I am a slug. The trainer, Jenna, is encouraging and understanding and firm. I am so grateful she doesn't bark at me like a drill sergeant. I've been to gyms like that and you know what? I'm too old for that crap. You yell in my face and I'm taking my fat-ass money back home, buddy.
Anyway, Intro Day involved these things Jenna calls 'burpees." I call them "Knee Surgeon Cash Cows." You crouch down, lay out, do a push up, crouch your feet under you, then jump up into a jumping jack. Piece of cake...no no no. I promise to never, ever, ever eat any kind of cake again if you eliminate burpees from my workouts as long as my lungs draw breath. My anterior quadriceps-- the muscles down the front center of the thighs--screamed for three days and my surgically enhanced left knee kicked my butt. It wasn't Jenna's fault--pride goeth before a fat girl's knee giveth out. I could barely walk the next morning.
But I still showed up for class the day after. I'm going to get thinner and fitter if it kills me. At least I'll look better when they go to cremate me. Saturday wasn't too bad. Lots of squats and weights. And instead of burpees I did pull ups. Yeah, I can handle that.
Tuesday and Thursday I'm thinking, yeah, getting better. I can do this!
Then this morning I arrived to see a couple of real crossfit enthusiasts in the class. Oh crap. And first thing announced is we're going to run to start warm ups.
Running and I have never been friends. I've always had large mammary glands and when you get fat and old, they get fat and keep your stomach warm. When you run, they blacken your eyes and bruise your knees. And that's if you have a really supportive running bra, which of course I don't.
I trotted out behind everyone and race-walked. Pride? Pah! Down the toilet. I arrived back about five minutes later than the group and jumped right into the rest of the warm up. At least now I can do the thirty sit-ups without rolling off to one side and the lunge walks are cool.
The Workout of the Day was a progressive shoulder/chest/core muscle usage consisting of pull-ups and Handstand Push-ups. Yes, handstand push ups. You bend over and put your big fat butt in the air, prop your feet up the wall, touch your head to the floor, and push up.
"HA HA HA HA HA," the old fat woman (that would be me) laughed nervously.
"No problem," Jenna offers, "we're going to modify these for you." Luckily there was another beginner in the class today, so she and I tried doing these things with our feet on the jump-up boxes, which are about thirty inches tall. What's sad is that's waist high for me...
|oh hell no, I did not look like this.|
My shoulders feel like jelly. But hey my quads don't hurt!
I'm doing this for a month. If I survive and decide I like it, I'll do another month. Just don't make me do those damn burpees...