So the last time I was writing about my trainer (poor soul), I mentioned that we should give him a name. After many good ideas, I presented the list to him. After quick deliberation, he chose a name, but I didn’t like his response, so I’m choosing one for him. We will now call him Franz.
So, my latest story about Franz is that I really, officially think that he is trying to kill me. During my last work out with him, after I was finished with most of my exercises and headed to the last one, he kept repeating, ‘Ooooh! We have ten minutes left! You’re gonna have to do this for ten minutes! You’re gonna hate me!’ Too late, Franz. I already do.
The last thing Franz wanted me to do was pick up a 60lb sand bag, and walk it down the track, and back. When I got back to the beginning, I was to put the bag down, and pick up a kettle bell in each hand. Each one weighed about 40lbs. My first trip down the track with the bag I thought, “I used to carry this weight around on me every single day of my life”. My first trip down the track with the kettle bells I thought “Holy shit, I used to carry THIS weight around on me every single day of my life”.
My OMG moments were rudely interrupted by Franz telling me to stand up straight. Here’s the thing- When you were 85lbs heavier, you’re used to holding your body weight in a certain way. Standing up straight to me, is actually leaning back in the normal world. When Franz tried to get me to stand straight, it felt like I was leaning forward. Add 60-80 pounds of weights, and I am like a hobbling old woman. I don’t even know how any of this makes sense because currently, I feel like I am just leaning forward all the time. I think I need a posture brace. That should work out well while I’m trying to hop, squat, and lift at the gym.
Anyways, I did this for ten whole minutes, just like Franz threatened. When I was done, I dropped the weights, and put myself back in that happy place thinking, “I used to carry that. I USED to. Not anymore.”
GET. OUT. AND. WUN.