95 lb. weakling

I wonder who came up the the bright idea that lifting weights might be awesome.  Was it the cavemen?  Did they see a giant rock outside their cave and think, I should lift this boulder in as many different ways possible- yes that would be tons of fun!

I have worked at a gym for almost five years now and regardless of who came up with the idea, people lift weights.  Lots of people, all day long.  People.  Not me.

I have been a fitness counselor at said gym and have instructed many of these lifting people, that the best path to health and fitness is a road paved with both cardio-type exercise AND weight lifting.  And I do understand the science behind the concept, really, I am not deliberately trying to mislead the lifting people or anything.  but hypocrite that I am, despite teaching people to do this, I never actually do it myself.  I am the epitome of, 'those who don't do- teach!' 

The point is that, the guilt and peer pressure have gotten to me, people!  That, coupled with the fact that my arms are roughly the same size as my six year old daughter's, has compelled me to give weight lifting a try.  I am documenting my efforts because I am realistic enough to know that I severely lack the motivation to stick with this and I hope, hope, hope, that writing this down might help a little bit.

I guess if I am also being completely honest here, the guilt and such got to me a long time ago.  Years in fact.  But, I kept making all kinds of excuses for not starting. (none of which are worth documenting as they are all completely lame).   I did spend some of that, 'not starting time,' researching how to go about lifting weights and bulking up.  And by researching I mean, I watched the movie, Captain America. I know, awesomely scientific right?  But seriously despite a little bit of added movie magic, the personal trainers added twenty pounds of muscle to Chris Evans in three months.  I read the interview in  Men's health magazine about how they did it.

 I figure, that since adding the muscle was essentially his only job, and the fact that he had a dedicated personal trainer and dietitian on his team, Chris Evans had a significant advantage over me.  But I also figure that I am not looking to add that much muscle, (I am thinking more like 3-5 pounds).  And I don't have a movie shooting deadline to make, so I can take a little longer.  The basic, Captain America bulking up strategy seems like a good one.  The concept: Work your muscles, feed your muscles, rest your muscles, repeat.  Not rocket science right?

I got myself all fueled up since I am going to need to "feed the muscles"  I looked around, read and researched some more and picked Advocare supplements for the necessary amino acids, vitamins and protein that muscles need and love.  Without all the extra, bad for your body- chemical junk.  Because it would really suck to try for a healthy toned body and end up with chemical induced cancer.  I picked a day to start, and jumped in.

Day one lifting was yesterday.  I was motivated, I was determined, I was fueled up, I was ready!  Then I discovered, that someone (aka my children) stole my ear buds.  No ear buds, no music, no motivation... I was dangerously close to having a very valid excuse for procrastinating starting another day, then I remembered that Walgreens is on the way to the Y, and sells $5 ear buds.  Excuse, no longer valid. (sigh).  Crappy new ear buds in hand, (what do you expect for $5) I made it to the Y, set the play list and started lifting.  Yep, it totally sucked.  I lifted the whole circuit weights 3 mins. per machine x 10 machines = 30 minutes of torture.  I hate the caveman who thought it would be a good idea.  But actually, once the torture ended I felt pretty good.  I came home and flexed in front of the mirror, I think I noticed a change.  I blended my protein shake with the Rocky theme song playing in my head, and could hear my muscles singing praises as I drank it down.  This is awesome, I thought.  I feel stronger already, I thought.  I can totally do this, I thought. Feeling very proud and accomplished.  I went about being Mom and started the laundry, fixed dinner, played with the kids and then the sun went down. 

I have never actually been hit by a bus.  But by the time the sun set last night, I am pretty sure I could tell you exactly what getting hit by a bus feels like.  I am also thinking that NOW would be a great day to sign up for an online anatomy class because I know the location of, Every. Single. Muscle. In my body!  And let me tell you, they are no longer singing my praises.  In fact I am pretty sure they are hurling angry cuss words in wide and various languages.  This morning.  not better.  I now understand why those really muscly men don't straighten their arms.  It's not because they have such big biceps.  It's because it HURTS!  I have been walking around all day with my arms curled up looking like I am ready to punch someone, which is pretty accurate because I feel like punching someone, starting with the weight lifting inventing cave man, followed by the authors of Men's heath Magazine, and then Captain America himself.  Well, okay maybe not Captain.  (It's not his fault after all, and he probably feels my pain, and he is too pretty to hit, and I think he would win a fistfight with me).

It will get easier.  It will be worth it.  I can do this,  Right?