Friday, March 26, 2010

i'm going to become more fit, i've decided

I'm trying to sap every last remnant of benefits out of MUSC before I leave in a month--I've scheduled like every doctor's appointment that I can think of and have been jacking splenda packets from the doc's lounge like CRAZY. Also, since I'm all the time working out but don't really see any body changes to speak of, I also booked appointments with the nutritionist and exercise counselor over at the Weight Management Center.

Something I immediately noticed is that if you go into a place called the Weight Management Center and are NOT morbidly obese, people look at you like "what the hell are you doing here?" It's decidedly uncomfortable, but they way I look at it, just because I'm not overweight doesn't mean I don't have to actively manage my lifestyle in order to keep it that way. I didn't appreciate the judgement, is all I'm saying.

So the nutritionist was a bit of a bummer in that she told me to completely overhaul the way I'm eating. Evidently I was ballooning a bit in the portion size department, as well as eating like 5000% more starch than I should. The good part is that there was a change to be made--I wasn't just doing everything right and still not seeing results. So she was cool, whatever, I followed the plan for a week and lost .6 lbs. Neat.

Yesterday though, I met with the exercise counselor, Alicia. When I first saw her, I was like cool, she's young, stylish, fit, everything my superficial heart could ever want in a trainer/counselor. She seriously looked like a fitness model for Shape or something. She went through my regimen and then we just sat talking for a while, but I noticed that she kept making joking remarks about being old as the hills, blah blah, which confused and discouraged me because I assumed that she was maybe ten years old than me. So finally I asked her how old she was. The answer? FIFTY. This woman is fifty years old and looks like Jillian Michaels. All I can say is that after that, I was buying whatever she was selling. I told her if I look like her at fifty I'm gonna have tshirts made up or something.

So I meet with her again in three weeks. And the thing is I'm going to work really hard at the plan she gave me because I would sort of rather die than disappoint her. What a badass.





This is her--it's not the clearest picture but you get the general idea.

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