I Should've Paid Attention

Well, I'm three days into the Slim-Fasting (which, during some parts of my day feels like actual fasting), and so far, things are going pretty well.  I realized today, however, that I have a problem stemming from back in middle school.

I was a bad student, you see.  I rocked my reading and writing, and I was always among the first to finish my math, but when it came to health and P.E. classes, I did absolutelynothing.

Bless my P.E. teachers for trying, but I retained absolutelynothing about health and fitness.  A part of our PE curriculum was learning about what a proper workout looks like and how to use the weight equipment.  We had to fill out logs each day telling how many sets and reps we completed or for how many minutes we ran on treadmills or rode the exercise bike.

Would you believe that I forged all of that information?

Well, I did.  And I take full responsibility for what I did (or, rather, for what I did not do).  Although, shame on my teacher for burying his head in a newspaper and putting his feet up on his desk instead of coming around and making sure we were doing our work.

 
I'm pretty sure that if I took that approach to my teaching, I wouldn't last a week.

Anyway, I graduated from high school with little to no knowledge of working out.  I was pretty confident, however, that my lack of knowledge in that area would not stop me from accomplishing my career goals.  And it did not.

Onward to college I went, where I was forced to take Nutrition 100.  I was in class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and I had a one-hour lab on Thursdays where I had to meet with my personal trainer.  She did awful things like make me run around the track two times, measure my body's fat content with awful pinchers, and review my nutrition logs and tell me that I was not eating a well-balanced diet.

I.  Simply.  Did.  Not.  Care.

Not even a little bit.

Bless her heart, she took my fitness group to the campus rec center and showed us how to use each and every piece of equipment.  I stood toward the back of the group and instead of paying attention to what she was saying, I stared at all the other gym rats who were there at the time.

Why?  Because I.  Simply.  Did.  Not.  Care.

Not even a little bit.

From all the work she put in during our consultations and tour of the rec center, I remember absolutelynothing.

Just as I did in high school, I forged all of my workout and nutrition logs, and I received a B+ (totally undeserved) and graduated from college with little to no knowledge of health and fitness.  As was the case in high school, I was pretty confident that my lack of knowledge in that area would not stop me from accomplishing my career goals.  And it did not.

Herein lies the problem, however.  Now that I am Slim-Fasting and have made a promise to myself that I would go workout for at least 30 minutes a day, I am absolutely lost.  I worked out yesterday for 45 minutes and I stuck to the treadmill and the bike, two devices that are fairly foolproof.  Today when I went back, I did the same thing.

I have no idea how to use the weight machine contraptions, I don't know what to do with the free weights, and there are other pieces of equipment that are unrecognizable altogether.  So, today I observed.  I watched intently from my treadmill to watch how people were getting these other machines to move.  But I am frightened to try them myself.

When I got home and checked my e-mail, I received a newsletter from an organization for which I volunteer.  It opened with this quotation:

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

- Eleanor Roosevelt

So, tomorrow, I am going to take this advice.  I will look the exercise machines fear in the face, and I will do the thing I think I cannot do.

Probably.

Wish me luck!