If you follow along with Fat Girl Wunning, you know that some how, some way, I can make any work out session into a complete shit show. Between hitting Franz in the crotch, almost falling off of a treadmill, swearing with no care in the world, or almost kicking Franz in the face, there is always something utterly ridiculous that happens.
This week was no different.
Get your imagination pants on and picture this… It’s Upper Body Murder day, and I am still in the first half of my work out. Franz tells me to get down in a plank position, with my legs wide apart. This will help me keep my balance because while I’m planking, I will also be doing rows with a 30lb weight. This is a new exercise for me, so I was focusing a lot on how I was keeping myself up, how many muscles hurt, and oh, lift that weight the right way so you don’t have to hear Franz yell at you. That’s when it happened. I hit myself directly in the boob with the weight. Straight shot. Thirty pounds.
I sat up, clutching my flapjack, and looked up at Franz who was laughing at me. It hurt. I made that known. Franz just continued to laugh. I got back in the plank position, to finish my sets. I continue with the other arm, and then switch back. Three reps in, I smack the flapjack again. This time, some how, I managed to keep it quiet. No need to egg Franz on, and give him something to make fun of. But dammit… weights to the boobs hurt!
Next up on the WTF Happened At The Gym Today list is when my shirt strap broke. Same day as my Flapjack incident, my brand new gym shirt decided to steal the show. All of a sudden, the adjustable strap was loose. I go to tighten it, and it completely opens up. The itty bitty plastic piece that holds the straps in place, had broken. Super convenient timing. Lucky for me, the broken strap just made me look stupid in a shirt with one strap hanging off, and it didn’t effect the whole ‘coverage’ aspect. You bet your ass I drove right to the store I bought it from, and returned it that night. (I also bought two more… maybe that ONE was defective?? 😉 )
Oh you thought we were done? We’re not. The very next training night was Lower Body Murder day, and holy moly Franz had it out for me. As I sit here now, writing about it two days later, my legs are STILL throbbing. Anyways, I did the entire work out, and my legs are like jelly, and in true Franz style, he has me do the hardest thing last. You know, like when he’d have me push his ass on the sled, down the green… On this day, Franz puts me on the leg press machine (or what I call the Birthing Baby Maker). He adds 250 pounds of weight and tells me to do four sets of 25 reps. TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS. I’m pretty sure my life flashed before my eyes on multiple occasions. I was dying. Complaining and swearing the whole time. Wanting to fast forward time to when I was done, and I could roll off the machine and lay on the floor… to die. On my last set, I think I got to number 16, and I pushed my legs up, and locked them in place. I couldn’t do it any more. Franz was tired of saying, ‘one more’, ‘let’s go’, ‘don’t stop’, etc. Instead, he said, ‘Remember that time I poured water over you when you were on the floor?’ I started laughing… then it hit me. Franz stood there with his water in his hand and said, ‘KEEP GOING’. I unlocked my legs, did three more reps, and stopped to cry again. That’s when the nice luke warm stream of water came down on my face, soaking my chest, and running down my back against the seat of the disgusting machine. Water splattered all over the floor, and the only thing I could do was laugh. I was holding the weight up with my sore feet, and wobbly legs, and laughing so hard while trying to wipe the mix of sweat and water out of my eyes.
Then I hear it. ‘FINISH, ALLY!’ Ok, ok… I struggle to get going, but I push out the last few reps, lock up the machine, and roll out of it like an old lady. I was finally done. Done, but I couldn’t walk.
Listen, if I can do it, YOU can do it.