I have something to confess: I haven't worked out in a while. And by a while, I mean at least a couple of months. And by worked out, I mean anything besides walking around at a leisurely pace (that includes super low-key yoga/pilates).
Amazingly, I'm smaller/lighter right now than I was back in the spring, when I was much better about exercising (well, I say it's surprising, but I guess it's been the case 90% of the last ten years, so I don't know why I continue to be surprised), but nonetheless I've been feeling sluggish and soft lately, and last week I decided to get back on the horse.
A friend of mine on facebook has been doing a Jillian Michaels* workout, and she's been posting a lot about how exhausted it makes her and how much it hurts – my kind of workout, when I really want to get stuck in. I messaged her and we chatted back and forth about the video, and based on her review ("it kills, but it's only half an hour and it isn't boring") I bought it on itunes and tried it out the very same day.
Oh. My. Lord.
This video (the 6-week ab shred) is no joke. There were moves I couldn't even do, much less keep up with. But I got through it, and I felt proud of myself. And then came the next day – oh god I could barely move. My abs felt okay, but my thighs and back were killing me. I moaned and patted myself on the back about it to the BF, and he was duly sympathetic and also a bit interested. So I invited him to join me in doing the video this morning. And he actually agreed, and followed through!
It was awesome. Five minutes in, my already-sore muscles burning but my resolve strong, I looked over to see the BF, red in the face and looking stunned at the strength and agility expected of him. I chuckled and said "no joke, huh?" The rest of the workout was just as satisfying. He performed admirably: there were moves that I couldn't face with my sore body, which he managed to do, and there were moves which he sat down on the mat and watched, while I gave it a shot. The different weight and strength distributions of our bodies probably had something to do with that (plank moves are really extra hard when all your muscles and all your weight are in your hips/thighs).
When we finished, he collapsed and stared over at me, his eyes wide and rolling like an overworked horse. I felt so validated. Smug, even, which is unfair because the BF had never said anything to indicate that he thought my workouts were easy. But that didn't matter – I felt validated on behalf of all women, in the face of all men.
I've always felt like there was an attitude in the fitness world that women don't work as hard. That the vast majority of women get on the eliptical for 20 minutes, watch The Real World and get their heart rates up a bit, and then go do 50 crunches on the mat, grab a smoothie, and go about their day. Or they do yoga for an hour and go to lunch in their spandex. Even the cardio classes have a reputation for being dance-based, flounce-around excuses for exercise. Women just work out so they can eat without feeling guilty and shop for cute leggings and sports bras.
On the other hand, men's fitness routines are thought of as harder-core: running on a treadmill followed by heavy weight-lifting. Lots of sweat, lots of grunting, lots of old, stained, holey T-shirts. Men work out for fitness, and women just do it because they feel like they should.
Which is probably true, in a lot of cases. But one of the reasons they feel like they should work out is often because of the pressure they get to look a certain way. And, in general, it takes a LOT of work to look as good as we're told we should. It's hard, sweaty, exhausting stuff, trying to get thin and flabless. Most men, on the other hand, can run a few miles a day, be proud of their general physique and resting heart rate, and go on about their lives. No. Fair.
But looking good is only sort of why I do it, personally. I watch Jillian and her lackeys and I'm fully aware that there's no way in hell that I can ever wear spandex and not have a hint of muffin top. Those women are like 4% body fat, and that'll never happen to me – I'm convinced that even when I die and decompose, I'll still have rolls – but I also know that I can be stronger. Firmer. My arms can be more defined, and my ribcage can be less squishy. My collarbone can be more pronounced. I may never look great, but I can look better.
But it's a whole lot of work. And I'm willing to put it in (half the time) because it makes me feel better about myself. But I won't say it's not extra satisfying to know that my naturally strong, fit boyfriend feels the burn at least as much as I do (more, on some moves). Bless that boy and his sweaty, red, stunned face. He stuck with it, and I think I will too.
* I'm not a huge fan of Jillian Michaels, generally – the whole yelling at fat people who are trying their best thing really turns me off – but she's pretty good in this video. A bit annoying, but not so condescending or trying so hard to be a tough bitch.
PS You've read the pros of exercising with the BF, validation and companionship and all that, but the one big con is that he's there in the room with me when air bubbles escape during crunches. AWK.
Amazingly, I'm smaller/lighter right now than I was back in the spring, when I was much better about exercising (well, I say it's surprising, but I guess it's been the case 90% of the last ten years, so I don't know why I continue to be surprised), but nonetheless I've been feeling sluggish and soft lately, and last week I decided to get back on the horse.
A friend of mine on facebook has been doing a Jillian Michaels* workout, and she's been posting a lot about how exhausted it makes her and how much it hurts – my kind of workout, when I really want to get stuck in. I messaged her and we chatted back and forth about the video, and based on her review ("it kills, but it's only half an hour and it isn't boring") I bought it on itunes and tried it out the very same day.
Oh. My. Lord.
This video (the 6-week ab shred) is no joke. There were moves I couldn't even do, much less keep up with. But I got through it, and I felt proud of myself. And then came the next day – oh god I could barely move. My abs felt okay, but my thighs and back were killing me. I moaned and patted myself on the back about it to the BF, and he was duly sympathetic and also a bit interested. So I invited him to join me in doing the video this morning. And he actually agreed, and followed through!
It was awesome. Five minutes in, my already-sore muscles burning but my resolve strong, I looked over to see the BF, red in the face and looking stunned at the strength and agility expected of him. I chuckled and said "no joke, huh?" The rest of the workout was just as satisfying. He performed admirably: there were moves that I couldn't face with my sore body, which he managed to do, and there were moves which he sat down on the mat and watched, while I gave it a shot. The different weight and strength distributions of our bodies probably had something to do with that (plank moves are really extra hard when all your muscles and all your weight are in your hips/thighs).
When we finished, he collapsed and stared over at me, his eyes wide and rolling like an overworked horse. I felt so validated. Smug, even, which is unfair because the BF had never said anything to indicate that he thought my workouts were easy. But that didn't matter – I felt validated on behalf of all women, in the face of all men.
I've always felt like there was an attitude in the fitness world that women don't work as hard. That the vast majority of women get on the eliptical for 20 minutes, watch The Real World and get their heart rates up a bit, and then go do 50 crunches on the mat, grab a smoothie, and go about their day. Or they do yoga for an hour and go to lunch in their spandex. Even the cardio classes have a reputation for being dance-based, flounce-around excuses for exercise. Women just work out so they can eat without feeling guilty and shop for cute leggings and sports bras.
On the other hand, men's fitness routines are thought of as harder-core: running on a treadmill followed by heavy weight-lifting. Lots of sweat, lots of grunting, lots of old, stained, holey T-shirts. Men work out for fitness, and women just do it because they feel like they should.
Which is probably true, in a lot of cases. But one of the reasons they feel like they should work out is often because of the pressure they get to look a certain way. And, in general, it takes a LOT of work to look as good as we're told we should. It's hard, sweaty, exhausting stuff, trying to get thin and flabless. Most men, on the other hand, can run a few miles a day, be proud of their general physique and resting heart rate, and go on about their lives. No. Fair.
But looking good is only sort of why I do it, personally. I watch Jillian and her lackeys and I'm fully aware that there's no way in hell that I can ever wear spandex and not have a hint of muffin top. Those women are like 4% body fat, and that'll never happen to me – I'm convinced that even when I die and decompose, I'll still have rolls – but I also know that I can be stronger. Firmer. My arms can be more defined, and my ribcage can be less squishy. My collarbone can be more pronounced. I may never look great, but I can look better.
But it's a whole lot of work. And I'm willing to put it in (half the time) because it makes me feel better about myself. But I won't say it's not extra satisfying to know that my naturally strong, fit boyfriend feels the burn at least as much as I do (more, on some moves). Bless that boy and his sweaty, red, stunned face. He stuck with it, and I think I will too.
* I'm not a huge fan of Jillian Michaels, generally – the whole yelling at fat people who are trying their best thing really turns me off – but she's pretty good in this video. A bit annoying, but not so condescending or trying so hard to be a tough bitch.
PS You've read the pros of exercising with the BF, validation and companionship and all that, but the one big con is that he's there in the room with me when air bubbles escape during crunches. AWK.
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