I never considered myself the type to have a personal fitness trainer. I don’t know who exactly I envisioned as a candidate for one, outside of women in the Real Housewives strata and Linda Hamilton when she buffed up for Terminator 2. I remember how unbelievably tough Hamilton looked in T2 doing chin-ups in her prison cell wearing sweatpants that couldn’t have been sexier if they were latex. I also remember what a jerk of a husband/director she had at the time in James Cameron, who famously lost the directing Oscar this year to another ex-wife, Kathryn Bigelow. Go team.
So here’s the thing: my latest bone density test showed the onset of osteoporosis, or brittle bone disease. This is sadly not uncommon in fifty-something women like me. We’re all encouraged by our doctors and the pharmaceutical companies to make everything right with a pill, but rather than jump on the once-monthly Boniva bandwagon, I opted to build bone the old-fashioned way – with disciplined weight lifting and resistance training. Where can you sign up, you ask? Okay, easy now, one at a time. The first thing you need is Faith.
Faith is a petite, green-eyed powerhouse of energy and motivation. After years in the corporate world, she parted company with the 9 to 5 and began a fitness training business in her state-of-the-art home gym where Linda Hamilton would have no problem getting her sweat on. Faith is professional, inspiring, and enviably toned. Somewhere in her forties, she bikes 15 miles every morning before her first client shows up whining about their hectic day. She sees each client in a private session with a custom-made workout routine. Her gym has every piece of exercise equipment known to man or woman and a few she designed herself. Every pulley and strap she has is killing me.
I don’t know how Faith responds to any of the other Lindas, but for me it’s Let’s Play Army. Clearly she detected some military response in me from the start because if she says “Give me 20 calf lifts!” I’m on the sixteenth one before I even know I’m doing them. My calves, however, know otherwise. They start screaming with their little high-pitched calf muscle voices that five more and they’ll snap. “Can you give me three more?” she calls out, and before I can answer she smiles maniacally and says, “Five! Five is better. You can give me five, right? You have five in you? Four, three, two, one. Change legs!” Which would be great if I could change legs with Linda Hamilton.
After two months of twice-weekly intense workouts, this is what I have learned. Like everything important in life, exercise is a conscious commitment. It is also one I have managed to avoid for many years by not lifting anything heavier than a laptop. At the risk of sounding like some late-night, wild-eyed infomercial lady, challenging your body to perform has some startling results. Listed briefly, they are: 1) increased energy for doing just about everything; 2) a sudden ability to wear clothes previously banished to the back of the closet; 3) an involuntary desire for an apple over an Oreo; 4) the satisfaction of seeing a goal move within reach; and most importantly, if perhaps not relevantly, the knowledge that I could hold my own in a prison riot. I got your back too, Faith.
From our recent trip to Ireland, today’s Fotos say it’s all fun and games. . .
chess in the woods
kidplay
waiting for the troll
. . . until someone loses an eye