I have never been the type of person to work out. Ever. My concept of exercise consisted of picking up the remote and setting it back down...and for awhile there, I truly believed that french fries constituted a vegetable on my plate.
I was athletic when I was younger. It's hard to believe, I know, but there was a time when I was AHEAD of the curve on the growth chart. I played center on my 5th grade basketball team (quit laughing, I can hear you from here), and used to be a setter/blocker for volleyball. Somewhere along the line, I stopped growing. And once I realized my stride was more like that of a hamster...and less like that of a gazelle, sports pretty much fell to the back burner.
But there's one thing you have to understand. Just because I turnd my back on athletics...doesn't mean that my family did. Athleticism pretty much courses through the veins of 99% of my family. Cool beans, yo. You go run - FOR FUN no less. I'll sit here and nap. Wake me up when you're done.
The lazier I got, the chubbier I got. It's true. I could show you pictures...I looked very much like Theodore from the chipmunks. I didn't play sports anymore, and the concept of walking into a gym and working out (in front of people!! can you imagine??) was beyond my comfort zone. I tried. I remember thinking it was a good idea (and in easy credit) to sign up for step aerobics in college. I figured...how hard can it be? You're stepping on a flippin' box...to music no less. Oh boy, was I wrong! I had a hard enough time cramming myself into a spandex workout outfit that I should have known moving around gracefully in the thing wouldn't have been easy. I looked more like an overstuffed Ukrainian sausage than a lean, mean exercising machine. Make no mistakes about it...stepping on a box to music was hard. It didn't help that my stride was half that of the box, and it took 2 of my steps to every 1 step of the instructor. Or, that every other girl in that room was about 95 pounds, with perfect hair and perfect make-up. They glistened...I was dripping with sweat and heaving in the background. So much for getting fit.
And then I moved to Rochester...had some sort of quarter-life crisis and decided to join a gym (I know...right?). And while flashblacks of my last row, disco fever step aerobics class briefly flashed in my mind...I somehow managed to push them aside, thanks to the wonderful Jill Kasparie.
There's many things about Jill that I'm thankful for, but we'll stick to her helping me get back to the gym for this post. Afterall...we have 365 days...why rush?
Jill inspired me to work out, she showed me how the machines work, she never laughed at me when I nearly broke my neck on a medicine ball (it was pretty funny), or questioned my profusive sweating (when you work out with her, it does get pretty brutal). She's awesome. She's inspiring, patient and kind. She got me down to a size 4 (no joke), and into an XS (Me? EXTRA small? Not just small?? No flippin' way! I used to think those were doll clothes!), and she motivated me to sign up for a marathon (So if I die on the course, you'll know who to blame).
She's wonderful...and for that, I'm entirely grateful.
You know how they say "No pain, no gain"?
I gained something special when I met her ;)
I was athletic when I was younger. It's hard to believe, I know, but there was a time when I was AHEAD of the curve on the growth chart. I played center on my 5th grade basketball team (quit laughing, I can hear you from here), and used to be a setter/blocker for volleyball. Somewhere along the line, I stopped growing. And once I realized my stride was more like that of a hamster...and less like that of a gazelle, sports pretty much fell to the back burner.
But there's one thing you have to understand. Just because I turnd my back on athletics...doesn't mean that my family did. Athleticism pretty much courses through the veins of 99% of my family. Cool beans, yo. You go run - FOR FUN no less. I'll sit here and nap. Wake me up when you're done.
The lazier I got, the chubbier I got. It's true. I could show you pictures...I looked very much like Theodore from the chipmunks. I didn't play sports anymore, and the concept of walking into a gym and working out (in front of people!! can you imagine??) was beyond my comfort zone. I tried. I remember thinking it was a good idea (and in easy credit) to sign up for step aerobics in college. I figured...how hard can it be? You're stepping on a flippin' box...to music no less. Oh boy, was I wrong! I had a hard enough time cramming myself into a spandex workout outfit that I should have known moving around gracefully in the thing wouldn't have been easy. I looked more like an overstuffed Ukrainian sausage than a lean, mean exercising machine. Make no mistakes about it...stepping on a box to music was hard. It didn't help that my stride was half that of the box, and it took 2 of my steps to every 1 step of the instructor. Or, that every other girl in that room was about 95 pounds, with perfect hair and perfect make-up. They glistened...I was dripping with sweat and heaving in the background. So much for getting fit.
And then I moved to Rochester...had some sort of quarter-life crisis and decided to join a gym (I know...right?). And while flashblacks of my last row, disco fever step aerobics class briefly flashed in my mind...I somehow managed to push them aside, thanks to the wonderful Jill Kasparie.
There's many things about Jill that I'm thankful for, but we'll stick to her helping me get back to the gym for this post. Afterall...we have 365 days...why rush?
Jill inspired me to work out, she showed me how the machines work, she never laughed at me when I nearly broke my neck on a medicine ball (it was pretty funny), or questioned my profusive sweating (when you work out with her, it does get pretty brutal). She's awesome. She's inspiring, patient and kind. She got me down to a size 4 (no joke), and into an XS (Me? EXTRA small? Not just small?? No flippin' way! I used to think those were doll clothes!), and she motivated me to sign up for a marathon (So if I die on the course, you'll know who to blame).
She's wonderful...and for that, I'm entirely grateful.
You know how they say "No pain, no gain"?
I gained something special when I met her ;)
::besties::
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