The Mini Van Soap Box

I've gone back and forth all week if I was going to share the following with anyone, however, I finally decided that if I threw it out there, maybe it would be a motivating factor to keep my ass in gear.

I had a moment. It wasn't exactly as though the heavens opened up and poured sunshine directly on me - or some out of body experience....Just more of a "ooohhh....alright, alright, ALRIGHT!" kind of moment.

I need to get in shape.

It's a mixture of many things really that has spurred this decision. A week long trip to the beach with two very thin sisters, pants that no longer fit, an addiction to The Biggest Loser tv show, and the fact that I've had to cover every mirror in my house with black plastic.

While I won't bore you with all the details of my 'gym shopping' and fretting over how much it costs...I'll just say that as of last Friday I became a member of a local gym. In addition, I've decided to pay a bit more money at the start up for the opportunity to gain the wisdom of a personal trainer for three whole sessions. A decision I'm certain I will come to regret.

After I signed the next year of my life away - I was led to a wall of what can only be described as mug shots of personal trainers. Maybe 20 to 30 to choose from. I'm supposed to pick the best trainer for me - simply by their pictures? Oddly, I found it easier than one would think. It was a pretty easy elimination process. I knew I didn't' want a man. 14 down. I knew I didn't anyone that looked like this.









Or This:










So, that was another 8 down.

There was really only two options left - and one of them looked as though I could sit on and beat if the situation ever arose.

Ding Ding - We Have a Winner

So, to get a jump start on things (our first official meeting is Tuesday) I decided to run over on Saturday morning and get some time in on a treadmill. Only to 'accidentally' run into my trainer and have an impromptu session.

Sunday morning, clearly I was sleep walking or in some drug induced haze, because I found myself driving BACK to the gym for a Spin Cycle of Death class. If that women said the word 'cadence' one more time I was going to shove my water bottle up her nose.

Now, I'm at work where my legs have fused into the plastic of this chair and the only two things on my body that are not screaming out "BITCH" are my ears and maybe the tops of my feet. I am also quite certain, although I have not investigated yet, that there is a bike seat shaped bruise on my ass.

I'm sure more humiliating stories will come of this - so if nothing else it's good blog material.