Ouch!

I didn't know what to expect when I went to see Cara from Corrective Exercise of Arizona.  It was the middle of a work day and she told me to wear comfortable clothes.

She practices in the same gym that Kimberly and her partner Andrew work at, so when I walked in it was pretty busy.  There were allot of women there with awesome bodies working on their 6-pack abs. Other trainers were there too, hollering at their clients in a boot-camp fashion encouraging them to do just one more...of whatever they were doing.

I was the only one wearing work clothes and I really felt out of place.  I kept my head down and made a bee-line for the bathroom to change my clothes.

Well...shit.

I forgot to pack socks or sneakers.  I was in my black patent leather heels and the LAST thing I wanted to do was stand barefoot on what could be a pee-sprayed, not to mention cold, bathroom floor. For a split second, I thought about just wearing my pumps with my sweats, but the ridiculous stares I would get quickly popped in and out of my head.  The thing I love about Alpha-Elite Fitness though is that no one judges.  Everyone is there to support and cheer you on, although we do have a good laugh at ourselves every once in a while.  And, it was only the 2nd time I found myself in gym in 2 years, and I wasn't in that state of mind yet.

I tip-toed around the bathroom and walked outside after I changed.  Cara had me lay down on a massage table and proceeded to gauge my range of motion by twisting and turning my limbs into various positions, seeing how far I could bend.  

We already knew that my back muscles were out of whack.  Years and years of slouching and hovering over a keyboard made my chest muscles become super tight.  They pulled and rounded out my back. 

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I try to stand up straight, pushing out my chest and contracting my back, but it's exhausting and painful trying to keep it that way. Not to mention all the years of 50 pound back packs which I held over my right shoulder, made one of my shoulders higher than the other.  

Fortunately, all of this can be corrected.  Cara pointed to a whole wall of foam rollers.  Black ones, white ones, bumpy, short and long.  Then there were a few pieces of PVC pipe, roughly the same circumference as the the foam roller.

 

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Now, I'm no stranger to the absolute torture a foam roller can cause.  If you've ever rolled out your hip flexors you know what I'm talking about. But when Cara headed for the PVC pipe, it was the only time I thought to myself that I would tell a trainer that I wasn't going to do something.  She proceeded to instruct me on different exercises to loosen up my back.  It hurt like hell.  Rolling up and down in certain sensitive spots, stopping on the painful knots until the pain went away.  The fact that there is no give to a PVC pipe like there is on a foam roller really makes it effective.  It also makes it feel like there's a 100 pound brick pressing into the deepest crevices of the fibers of my muscles.

That wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was when she grabbed two baseballs and made me lay down on them in certain ways.  It literally felt like I was stabbing myself over and over with a stake knife.

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Now folks, I know this sounds simple, but I don't recommend you trying any of these on your own without being properly instrcted by a professional.  I'm just giving general visions on what I was told to do, but you can seriously injure yourself if any of these items are placed wrong on your body.  Not to mention there's proper hand positions to maximize the effectiveness.

We went onto the weights.  Finally.  Cable reverse flys and the like.   I really loves those.  I'm like a guy in the sense that I'll spend all day on upper body and never work on legs.  But if you've ever seen a disproportionate form, it can be...well...disproportionate.

Right

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Wrong

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I broke into a sweat rolling out my body.  It in itself was a workout.  In fact, I was sore for two days afterwards.  But just knowing what the correct 'feeling' of good body posture is, as well as working on all the exercises at home, I'm more limber and loose.  I feel good and am well on my way to recovery.  I can't wait to start training with Alpha Elite again.

Not Ready

What does she mean my body isn't ready for training yet?

I thought to myself as tears welled up in my eyes.  Sitting in the truck after my first training in almost three years.  It was brutal.  My feelings ran from anger to sadness to denial.  One thing I did know is that no matter what, from the beginning, Kimberly ALWAYS gave it to me straight.

She wasn't one of those trainers that would just take your money and train you how you wanted to be trained. She actually worked for her clients.  Even when my funds were low, she trained me.  Always trying to figure out why you hit a plateau, whether it was muscle gain, fat loss, or a dead stand still for weeks on a particular meal plan.  She would constantly adjust and have "a-ha' moments.  Getting to know her client's bodies better than they did, but what's better is she would teach you why and how after she figured it out.

Years ago she had an a-ha moment with me.  I had always been pushing the same weight, no matter what, I just couldn't gain that extra strength to move past my level.  Same weight, same amount of reps for days. We had just figured out that I had exercised induced asthma, so I was hoping somehow gaining control of that would fix things.  But we were starting a new session when she told me we were going to try something new.

She bounced into the room when she was excited about something, eager to tell me what it was.
"We're going to try power lifting today."
I perked up.  I knew what it power lifting was and if it meant not doing push-up burpees I was game.  After all I wanted muscle.  I wanted definition in my muscles, everywhere.

She proceeded to teach me how to do clean and presses, It was the first time I actually felt powerful.  Like I was actually achieving my goal.  Free weights were my thing.

So to hear that my body wasn't ready for training was devastating.  How could I just not jump back into it? It made sense though.  After I broke my ankle I couldn't walk or drive for 6 months.  My whole right leg went into atrophy.

My upper body has always been hell.  My occupation has me hunched over a desk all day, I was always drawing, or typing, or...something over a desk.  Never standing or stretching.  My back and shoulder muscles were completely knotted, come to find out.  I couldn't even do an arnold press.  The only thing I seemed to do well was the growler sled.  That's my new favorite.

But we had a plan.  She didn't want to waste my money on training with her, instead she's sending me to a corrective exercise therapist, who works at the same gym.  Two or three times with her, and I should be ready to start training.  In the mean time, I'm O.K. to do yoga and start back up on the Whole 30 Paleo meal plan, which is a detox, anti-inflammatory meal plan.  I did it over the summer and lost 14 pounds in a month and a half.

No more sugar. I thought to myself pulling out of the parking lot.  How was I going to eat my emotions now?

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Well...shit.

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Want to try Kimberly and Andrew at Alpha Elite?  No matter where you are, they offer online training as well!  https://www.facebook.com/AlphaElite

Working Out....again....

I woke up excited.  Today was the day that I was going to see my trainer for the first time in almost three years.  I knew I had my work cut out for me.  I remember the very first time I met her, almost 5 years ago at a franchise gym.  I had been there for year, taking yoga and weight training classes and incorrectly using the machines, taking advantage of the 'free' once a month training/evaluation sessions they gave you with a personal trainer.  My trainer was a gal probably 20 years younger than me, and was in desperate need of  a Proactive treatment.

I had lost about 10lbs in that year and was pretty proud of myself.  Until I saw a new trainer in the gym.

Well...shit... 

I had thought to myself.  She was EXACTLY what I wanted to look like. 

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Angels sang in my head as I had a revelation.  She was in the middle of a training session with a woman on the squat machine but I didn't care.  I walked right up and interrupted.

"Hi, I'm Marcy."  I said.  Her name was Kimberly.  "I was wondering if you provide those free personal training sessions they offer here once a month."

She told me about a new personal training class that she was hired to lead, and offered me a free class.  

My thoughts raced through the next year as I was introduced to the kettlebell (love), burpees (HATE), power lifting (my passion) and the TRX system (I now own.)  Kimberly put me on a carb-cycling diet and I enrolled in a fat-burning contest and went from this...

to this..

and this...

....Then, my father-in-law passed away. I didn't think about specific circumstances it was such a hard time in the whole family's life.  But, because I was a stay-at-home mom, I did quit going to the gym five times a week and went to my father-in-law's house instead, everyday, with my 3 year old in tow to get his house in order for a months worth of estate sales. 

About a year later, I was back at the gym with Kimberly privately training me for a few months.  She mainly trained athletes for mud-runs and things like that...which I wasn't interested in.  I wouldn't run unless it was to save my life.  I wanted to be a figure competitor.

Nicole Wilkins.  Current Figure Olympia Champion source

But again, I looked like this...

Kimberly had been in a figure competition before and looked reluctant.  After all, she knew what it took. Hard training, stiff criticism, depletion that left you more than bitchy and body that was left in an almost torturous state.  But she agreed. I was SO happy I told everyone at Thanksgiving dinner that night while playing pool in 2011 that I was finally going to train towards my goal.  That very night this happened...

Well..shit...

My thoughts quickly turned to surgery and not walking for 6 months, a foot boot that stank and a knee scooter that all the kids stared at when I went to the store, asking their mommies what was wrong with me.  I shook those thoughts out of my head as I got angry at all the people that used the handicapped spaces with their appointed stickers, yet hopped out of their vehicles and skipped to the store.  Not to mention all the people who would 'rather' use a scooter than 'walk' even though they could...as I had to wait for one to become available.  All the assholes that would cut in front of a person in a scooter just to get down that aisle in front of you were enormous in numbers.

Pricks.

I couldn't think anymore about it.  I had come so close to HALF of what I wanted to be and lost it.  I shook it out of my mind and got dressed for my new job.  The first full time job I had in six years.  I loved it.  It kept me busy and was a place of my own.  I got to dress in clothes that resembled real people clothes and not cut off shorts and flip flops.

But as I looked across the room, I glanced at my gym equipment in the corner gathering dust.  My treadmill, kettle bell, TRX system, one 30 lb dumbbell (where was the other one anyway?) two-5lb dumbbells and two 10lb leg weights that I'd attach to anything to add extra weight.  My thoughts ran to everything else I owned, a fake bowflex in the garage, a foam roller, an exercise ball and an old barbell that belonged to my husband which without weight, probably weighed 30 lbs itself.

Sure, according to some people (my husband,) I had all the equipment I could ever need to achieve what I wanted.  After all, I had been through training and knew what to do, right?  But for me, it was more than that.  I needed an unbiased cheerleader that would hold me accountable and give it to me straight.  And Kimberly held nothing back.

I worked through the day excited yet apprehensive.  I had never worked out at night before.  Did I eat enough energy?  Did I drink enough water?  Did I take my asthma medication?  Was my husband going to pick up my daughter so I could make it across town to where the new training gym was on time?  I had packed my gym clothes, did I pack a piggy tail?  Was I going to throw up after 15 minutes of training? Would the pattern on my panties show through my new gym pants when I did squats?

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At 5:00, I changed into my gym clothes and headed out the door to the truck.  I blasted old 80's heavy metal to get me into the workout mood.  I thought I knew what was in store for me, I had been through it all right?

I was completely wrong.