I haven't met with Carlos for over a week. He was sick, then I had a migraine, and, well, I hated the workout he had me do last time and I wasn't looking forward to admitting I've been emotionally eating. I feel like crying over how I've sabotaged myself the last week. And I did shed a tear or two at the gym. Ugh.
Using resistance bands last time, he had me do some endurance work. Lots and lots of reps, timed.
Hate. Hate. Hate.
So I told him that tonight and he said, "Good! We're going to do it again!"
See how happy he is that he was going to make me suffer???
So we started. I almost fell over. Shape ups are comfy but they are NOT good for doing squats or steps because they knock you off balance.
My arms are noodles. My legs are Jello. When I mentioned that to him, he said I was making him hungry. Good, because he made me feel like I'm going to hurl. Glad we're both uncomfortable.
After he killed me for 30 minutes, he told me that my endurance for activity is very low (duh) and that I need to do these exercises so I can be more active. *sigh* I hope I can actually force myself to do this workout before next time or he's going to make me do it again with him, and he shows no mercy. (That's a lie. He could see I wasn't feeling well and shortened my times by half.)
Starting next time (which is up in the air), we'll be doing hour-long sessions to use up my paid-for sessions before they expire. It'll be a bit touchy when I can get back because Runner Girl is having her surgery this Friday, but we are going to try next week.
Carlos doesn't know my blog address or why I snapped his picture, but I'm going to put his picture in front of my face while I do the workout so I can pretend he's there telling me to get it done. We'll see if that works for my motivation.
The good news is that feeling this wretched makes me want to eat better again. If only I hadn't just made a couple pounds of Gramma's caramel/toffee. I'd better get some more apples to eat it with so I can pretend it's not bad for me.