I’ve never owned a scale and weigh myself infrequently. To me, the numbers can be subjective. I’m not going to lie though, when I went into the Navy hospital to initiate paperwork for my OCONUS PCS physical and they had me step on the scale, I was in mild shock as the numbers “128.5” blinked back at me. Over 128? Apparently since the last time I was weighed (112 almost 2 years ago) I zipped past the teens and dove straight for the 30s. Damn!
I shouldn’t really be that surprised; I’ve slothed my way through this deployment and gone up almost 2 pant sizes. How did I not think that was going to register on the scale? With the pressure of looking good for the Mr.’s homecoming in two months looming over my head, I went home and tried to figure out a way to trim down noticeably but reasonably.
I headed over to bodybuilding.com and got motivated. I looked at some beginner workout plans and took nutrition notes and thought to myself, I can do this! Armed with inspiration and a slip of paper with some easy weight routines, I went to the West Gym repeating my mantra in my head, I can do this!
I had never been to the West Gym before or seriously lifted, but so what? Gotta start somewhere! I signed in, took a look around, and as my eyes adjusted I felt panic rising in my throat. The West Gym, apparently, is solely an iron pumping love fest. No ellipticals or treadmills with perky women bouncing around, no TVs, no nothing. Just you and the sharp rubber smell of floor mats, the clank of metal, and the grunting of sweaty men–which could be hot in a 50 Shades kind of way, but I’m not here to get freaky like that.
I took a gulp and forced myself to walk to the middle of the room and at least pretend to check out the equipment. One of the drils required use of the bench-press contraption but you kind of use it as a poor man’s pullup. All of the bench-presses had their benches underneath them but the video showed them with the benches removed. This means I’d have to attempt to move the bench. What if I couldn’t move it because it was too heavy? What if I tried moving it but the bench was actually bolted to the ground? I’d look like such an idiot! And what if one of them tries to help me out? I would feel so stupid and lame that I sucked so bad that someone had to come over and take pity on me. But on the other hand if I was struggling and no one offered to give me some direction, I would take it as some kind of West Gym cold shoulder.
I spotted the dumbell rack. Okay I needed those for the lunges. I took note of the dudes grunting in front of the mirror and started to freak out again. Yeah right, me and my 2 lbs weights are going to grunt alongside with them! Suddenly a woman rushed past me–the only one I saw since I stepped in the–oh shit she looks like a little gremlin!
I hightailed it out of there. I knew as soon as I jumped in my car that this was a new kind of rock bottom. But where do I go from here?
Fortunately when I got home and checked the mail some of my workout DVDs I ordered came in (I bought these just before I got the bright idea to start lifting). I’ll try them out so at least I’m doing something. I think my problem is I need a partner; someone who is semi-serious about being in the gym and can show me the ropes. The problem is that the amount of women who can do that and aren’t also weighed down by BABIES is pretty tough to find around here.
Any of you ladies go from zero to lifting and how did you make that transition?