Matilah aku...
I’m into Week 7 of my road-back-to-shape project, with 17 gym visits and – give and take – 12 Personal Training sessions out of 26. Yes, I’m keeping tabs with scrutiny because it’s a love-loathe emotional bond, this whole gym thing. While I love the fact that I DO feel the benefits and love getting compliments about how I look now, I abhor the painful sessions with my trainer Kim.
It’s good, though – with Kim around, he pushes me on and on when I feel like giving up. He torments me with comments like “C’mon, what is that? Why are you crying? That’s too easy!!” to “How many are you gonna give me? 10? Too easy – gimme 15. If you break, gimme 20!” I’m not sure if psychology is one of their qualifications, but he has pretty much got me figured out – he knows how much I hate feeling belittled, and he knows that if he throws me a challenge, he’d better be prepared because I try. It’s all good.
And yet I cringe before my sessions. Every single time. If Stephen King built my character into his novel “It”, my monster would be … The STAIR MASTER. I hate the pain. My heart beats so fast and my legs hurt so much. And the day after, I can hardly sit because my butt hurts so badly. I now do Level 9 at 58 floors in 15 minutes. “Only??” Kim remarks, “That’s so-so.” AAARRRGGHHH. Truth is, I do 7 minutes non-stop, then break for a few seconds to catch my breath, then do the remaining 8 minutes in spurts of 2-3 minutes. That’s why it’s “only” 58 floors. And after that, I have to do the Ark for another 15 minutes. He has stopped me from doing the treadmill because he thinks it’s too easy for me. Sob sob.
Last Friday, Kim told me in a fairly warning tone that he was going to put me through an excruciatingly thorough check-up to mark my progress thus far sometime after Raya. Why this gets me nervous I don’t know. After all, I have lost some inches here and there and I watch my diet closely. I swear he’s trying to undermine me again. He knows I’ll rise to the challenge. Dammit. I sent my gym buddy Faeez an SMS saying that if I go Raya and Diwalli visiting, I’ll have to pack my own food. Boiled vegetables. Matilah aku…
I really have to apologize to my blog readers (if I have any that is) if my gym grimacing is beginning to sound like a stale tale but it seems to be a major part of my life at the moment. I’ve never done serious exercise, never kept up a good diet program, never even been remotely fit! This whole thing is new for me. However I also know that there are more than enough obese Malaysians who are not doing something about their health. Perhaps they’re living in oblivion. Perhaps Vogue was never their favourite magazine. Perhaps Spring/Summer never meant anything more than cherry blossoms and Chinese New Year to them. And I actually feel sad for them. Shallow as it sounds, it really makes a difference to how the world views you if you’re fat. There are enough fat jokes and discrimination against fat people. They think you’re sloppy, messy and disgusting. You can be the most genteel and educated person but because you’re fat, you’ll sweat a little more, breathe a little heavier, eat a bigger portion – and that’s taboo in the eyes of the shallow.
Before you begin to criticize my observations, let me assure you that I speak from experience. Hel~lo – I’m 5’1” and weigh 67 kilos. My hips are so wide I wear a size 44 bottom. My chest area is so bulky I have to wear frumpy tops from the Plus size range because bloody fashion labels don’t understand that some women are allowed to be buxomous!! My friend who designs her own maternity wear fashion range uses me as a model. And all my life, I’ve had to work that much extra harder just to be accepted as a person worthy of being noticed. While being noticed is one hurdle overcome, the other is the challenge of finding that someone who will fall in love with me for who I am, behind this generously overflowing folds of fat.
The easy way out is, of course, to “…not give a damn about what the world thinks of you…” blah blah blah. Stop kidding yourselves lah. There is no such thing. People who say that are people who do care, and they do care that the world sees that they don’t care, and they do care if they are seen to care when they shouldn’t. Well folks – I DO care what the world thinks of me. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am, and it would be a terrible waste if I didn’t overcome this one simple hurdle – to get slim and trim.
On a parting note, I was actually digging some dirt up on my gym recently (hehheh) and came across their testimonial page on their website. Instead of making me puke, it made me stronger-willed believe it or not! I don’t believe it!!! I’m a sucker for testimonial ads!! Oh my God, I’ve been dispelling this notion for the longest time while working on Nivea!!! Anyway, these are real-life accounts of actual ‘ornery’ Joe’s and Jane’s who worked their way to fitness. I can actually relate to some of their insights. And honestly, I really can’t fault Kim at all for anything. No dirt on this guy. He’s been nothing but a motivator and is in essence a cool dude. We get along, and it’s actually fun to see him. Faeez says he wants to be like Kim when he grows up (lol), and it’s not difficult to see why. The dude’s got looks and character, and he’s passionate as hell about fitness. And that kinda rubs off on you when you’re with him.
Ah well, another grim gym entry comes to an end. More grimacing to come…
It’s good, though – with Kim around, he pushes me on and on when I feel like giving up. He torments me with comments like “C’mon, what is that? Why are you crying? That’s too easy!!” to “How many are you gonna give me? 10? Too easy – gimme 15. If you break, gimme 20!” I’m not sure if psychology is one of their qualifications, but he has pretty much got me figured out – he knows how much I hate feeling belittled, and he knows that if he throws me a challenge, he’d better be prepared because I try. It’s all good.
And yet I cringe before my sessions. Every single time. If Stephen King built my character into his novel “It”, my monster would be … The STAIR MASTER. I hate the pain. My heart beats so fast and my legs hurt so much. And the day after, I can hardly sit because my butt hurts so badly. I now do Level 9 at 58 floors in 15 minutes. “Only??” Kim remarks, “That’s so-so.” AAARRRGGHHH. Truth is, I do 7 minutes non-stop, then break for a few seconds to catch my breath, then do the remaining 8 minutes in spurts of 2-3 minutes. That’s why it’s “only” 58 floors. And after that, I have to do the Ark for another 15 minutes. He has stopped me from doing the treadmill because he thinks it’s too easy for me. Sob sob.
Last Friday, Kim told me in a fairly warning tone that he was going to put me through an excruciatingly thorough check-up to mark my progress thus far sometime after Raya. Why this gets me nervous I don’t know. After all, I have lost some inches here and there and I watch my diet closely. I swear he’s trying to undermine me again. He knows I’ll rise to the challenge. Dammit. I sent my gym buddy Faeez an SMS saying that if I go Raya and Diwalli visiting, I’ll have to pack my own food. Boiled vegetables. Matilah aku…
I really have to apologize to my blog readers (if I have any that is) if my gym grimacing is beginning to sound like a stale tale but it seems to be a major part of my life at the moment. I’ve never done serious exercise, never kept up a good diet program, never even been remotely fit! This whole thing is new for me. However I also know that there are more than enough obese Malaysians who are not doing something about their health. Perhaps they’re living in oblivion. Perhaps Vogue was never their favourite magazine. Perhaps Spring/Summer never meant anything more than cherry blossoms and Chinese New Year to them. And I actually feel sad for them. Shallow as it sounds, it really makes a difference to how the world views you if you’re fat. There are enough fat jokes and discrimination against fat people. They think you’re sloppy, messy and disgusting. You can be the most genteel and educated person but because you’re fat, you’ll sweat a little more, breathe a little heavier, eat a bigger portion – and that’s taboo in the eyes of the shallow.
Before you begin to criticize my observations, let me assure you that I speak from experience. Hel~lo – I’m 5’1” and weigh 67 kilos. My hips are so wide I wear a size 44 bottom. My chest area is so bulky I have to wear frumpy tops from the Plus size range because bloody fashion labels don’t understand that some women are allowed to be buxomous!! My friend who designs her own maternity wear fashion range uses me as a model. And all my life, I’ve had to work that much extra harder just to be accepted as a person worthy of being noticed. While being noticed is one hurdle overcome, the other is the challenge of finding that someone who will fall in love with me for who I am, behind this generously overflowing folds of fat.
The easy way out is, of course, to “…not give a damn about what the world thinks of you…” blah blah blah. Stop kidding yourselves lah. There is no such thing. People who say that are people who do care, and they do care that the world sees that they don’t care, and they do care if they are seen to care when they shouldn’t. Well folks – I DO care what the world thinks of me. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am, and it would be a terrible waste if I didn’t overcome this one simple hurdle – to get slim and trim.
On a parting note, I was actually digging some dirt up on my gym recently (hehheh) and came across their testimonial page on their website. Instead of making me puke, it made me stronger-willed believe it or not! I don’t believe it!!! I’m a sucker for testimonial ads!! Oh my God, I’ve been dispelling this notion for the longest time while working on Nivea!!! Anyway, these are real-life accounts of actual ‘ornery’ Joe’s and Jane’s who worked their way to fitness. I can actually relate to some of their insights. And honestly, I really can’t fault Kim at all for anything. No dirt on this guy. He’s been nothing but a motivator and is in essence a cool dude. We get along, and it’s actually fun to see him. Faeez says he wants to be like Kim when he grows up (lol), and it’s not difficult to see why. The dude’s got looks and character, and he’s passionate as hell about fitness. And that kinda rubs off on you when you’re with him.
Ah well, another grim gym entry comes to an end. More grimacing to come…
posted by Adeline Gypsy Heart | 7:29 PM
1 Comments:
Hehe well done :)
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