Meeting the trainer (and getting a little personal)

Today marks the first day of this new endeavor that I like to call "accountability".

I've joined gyms before. I started two years ago at a local 24/7 gym, conveniently located in the middle of a mini-mall. The enormous picture windows looked out onto the busiest street in town, and I dutifully went every evening, jiggling my way through a mile or two on the treadmills for all the city to see.

That is, until one day I didn't, and then another, and another, and I woke up one day realizing I hadn't been back in months.

This cycle happened several times over the past few years, every time promising myself that "This time will be different." Clearly, it never was. So here we are again.

On Sunday, I joined a new gym and tonight I met my trainer, J. I'll get this out of the way now: He's pretty adorable. He's a college student, he must be almost ten years younger than I am, and he's now responsible for me.

Thank god someone is.

Day One is always Evaluation Day. I was treated to a series of measurements (yuck), a weigh-in (double-yuck) and a body fat analysis (sigh).

"I've never seen that number before," I said, looking at the scale.

"You never will again. That's why I'm here." I told you he's adorable.

I also went through various exercises, in order to get a benchmark. Push-ups, sit-ups, leg presses, lat pull-downs, and twelve minutes on the treadmill. Now, I have goals. I know what I'm capable of and I know where I want to end up.

Time to come to terms with the slowness of my sprints and the bigness of my sweet, sweet Kardashian hips.

The beginning

After years of ups and downs, it's time to get real.

Gym = joined.

Trainer = hired.

I am 31 years old. I'm 5'2" with my shoes on and I weigh 238lbs.

I have a life to change. Let's get started.