Biggest Loser - Week 2

We didn't do the weigh in this morning as more than half of our group was absent (must have gone somewhere for the holiday.  Why didn't I think of that???)  So, tomorrow's the day I find out if my perpetual wet head (I am a serious head sweater!) and body odor have made me proud.  I'm not kidding about the body odor, either.  One day last week, I went grocery shopping right after finishing our two-hour morning workout and then returned for a Zumba class at 9:00 am.  I could hardly stand myself.  Every time I moved my arms I got a whiff.  I've learned that if I'm going to do extra work-outs, I need to bring an extra shirt!

The second week brought a number of highs and lows.  I keep waiting for that constant energy and mood lifting universe to be the one in which I live.  Instead, I find myself still planted in the low-energy, hate-getting-up-in-the-morning, too-tired-to-do-much-else-besides-recover world.  While I wait for my metamorphosis to occur, I'll admit to a few things.  I cried during a workout.  I have decided to take my workouts more seriously and purchase cycling shoes (the ones that clip onto the pedals), a heart-rate monitor and another pair of biking shorts, and I have sort of become my pink team's leader.

First, let me explain the tears.  Our workout schedule changed from the first to second week.  Instead of doing Spin every morning, we only go on Monday, Wednesday and Fridays.  Now, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we go to a class called Boot Camp.  It is exactly as hard as it sounds.  I thought Spin was hard, but at least during Spin, it's just my heart and my legs that are burning and want to quit.  At Boot Camp, everything hurts.  The instructor is about ninety-five pounds and seriously strong.  Like, I think she could take me in a street fight.  Her two workouts last week were really, really hard.  Think circuit training at warp speed with no breaks.  If we aren't jumping, or lifting or squatting or crunching, we are resting for, at most, ten seconds.  It's understandable, then, how a big girl like me, after the seventh rep of thirty second planks, might tear up.  I made sure I was done with my melt down by the time anyone saw my face and I am hoping my red eyes can be attributed to blood vessels bursting from exertion. Everything still feels so hard.  I know I'm getting stronger and I even know that eventually, I'll be able to do all of these exercises as they were meant to be done, but right now, it gets frustrating to constantly have my own weaknesses exposed.  Every time we do anything that isolates our hamstrings or our abs, I feel weak, weak, weak - especially if it's a weight-bearing exercise.  Take our hamstring lifts as an example.

In this exercise, we're asked to lie on our backs, and put one heel on top of a step bench.  Then, we're supposed to lift out other leg straight into the air.  With the heel pressed into the bench, we're told to lift our butt off the floor and then lower it back down.  Over and over and over again.  Then, we're supposed to keep it in the air and pulse for sixty reps.  This is a very frustrating exercise when I can't get my butt up in the air in the first place. It feels glued to the floor.  I can barely manage a tiny and very short lift-off if I push my arms underneath my body and push up, but, apparently, my hamstring muscles are severely lacking in strength.  That was the other time I cried.   And, whoo-eee, was I sore the next day!

Spin, however, is becoming easier.  This is when my head sweat comes into play and by the middle of the workout, I have a puddle on the floor beneath my bike.  I didn't want to spend the money on biking gear at first, because I doubt I'll become a real cyclist, but I think with cycling shoes and really good padded shorts, I can work even harder during spin.  The instructors are always asking us about our heart-rates and I suppose it wouldn't hurt to know what mine is.  I think perceived effort can be just as useful a tool, but a number would be nice.  Maybe I'm not working as hard as I think I am.

Fridays, our post-spin workout is called Fun Fitness Games, the fun part being debatable.  We have been divided into two groups: pink and yellow.  I am on the pink team and we are definitely the weaker team.  My teammates include a 62 year-old woman and another woman who I would describe as the most negative of the group.  I think she's getting better but she is constantly cheating on her eating (we have to turn in our nutrition logs each day and every day, our trainer says something like, "Why are you still eating french fries?!") and constantly giving up on the exercises.

The yellow team, on the other hand, has the husband and wife combo, both of whom are highly competitive, and the youngest member of the group.  For our fitness games, we had four different competitions.  The first was a circuit course where, instead of time, the number of reps determined how long we were at each station.  Each team member had to complete the circuit twice and the first team to have all members finished won.  We had to rapid steps on a step bench (fifty on each leg.  MUCH harder than it sounds.  I was sucking wind big time), fifty shoulder presses with six pounds weights (could recover our breath but shoulders got sore), twenty-five Ab throw downs (lie on back and grab on to trainers ankles - she throws your legs down and you try to stop them before they touch the floor and raise them back up with straight legs.  I literally sounded like I was having a baby on my second set of twenty-five), fifty side-to-side lunges over a bosu ball, fifty triceps lifts with ten pound weight,  fifty medicine ball throws while catching ball in a squat and a hundred jump ropes.

We also had a kettle ball sprint relay (it's been awhile since I have sprinted), sand bag assembly line squats and a plank battle.  We lost everything competition but it was during the challenges that I really saw myself as something other than an out-of-shape weakling.  Even though I hurt, I found it invigorating to cheer on my team and encourage them to keep going, jump faster, or plank longer.  We left the studio that day totally exhausted but strangely bonded.  I still have my competitive spirit and realized my team needs that energy.  Both of my team mates said to me after we were done, "You are going to be successful, Lucy.  You are the most determined of the entire group."

Well, how about that?  Even though I am struggling to believe in myself, others believe in me.  Jay is so proud of me.  I could not do this without his incredible support.  I have awesome trainers who, even though they torture me with kickboxing and pilates and cruel hamstring exercises, think I can do these incredibly difficult things.

I think I am starting to believe them.  (I realize I sound like a Wemmick here.)