Glutes and Brutes

I am determined to get into shape...again. For two years, I have been at the gym, on the treadmill religiously, 4-5 days a week, slogging through 30, 40, 50 minutes of cardio, getting my heartbeat up to  aerobic levels. I have been attempting to keep carb content down to what my doctor says is a healthy 40 grams per meal. But with a body mass index (BMI) verging on 30% and a weight plateau which has lasted for nearly a year,  I am so determined to get back into shape that I subjected myself to yet another trainer whose method is "sure to work" at my latest health club, LA Fitness.

OK, let me be totally honest here: since the death of my Mom in October sparked an avalanche of downwardly spiralling events affecting my immediate family, I may not have been keeping those carb levels as even as prescribed. True, I have not been as religious about my sessions at the gym, slacking off to maybe three times a week and thirty minutes rather than the five and sixty model. Alright, yes, those desserts have been tasting good. So I realized I needed a kick-start.

Matt is a lovely, boyish trainer, who has waxed so much that he has a permanent arched brow. But despite that, he did seem sincere. He is convinced that his new method is the right one and that any past resistance exercises were flawed. No, he assured, resistance is not going to get you to your goal but our method will. OK, I was game.

Upstairs we went, after my thirty minutes on the treadmill. First he had me lunging. Next he had me hopping up and down on a bench, holding weights. Up, lift knee, down. Change legs and repeat. Up, knee, down. Breath. Squats with weights came next. Then it was twisting with a medicine ball in hand. Next, sit-ups, with my feet up in the air, grappling a large rubber ball. Breath, breath, breath. My heart was pounding. My thighs were shaking. My hips were aching.

Literally, I was working my ass off. I must stop, I begged!  Just one more he implored. Wow, this boy had become a brute!

The next day was agonizing. My whole body shivered. I could barely sit down or walk without searing pain. Aleve after Aleve and a number of topical analgesics and naps later, I realized I was feeling better.

So with a reluctant determination and perseverance, I will forge on. As Gloria Gaynor once belted, "I will survive" the brutes all in the name of better glutes.