Fitness is a Foreign Tongue

I used to go to one of the largest gyms in South Tampa.  For those who aren’t local, South Tampa is the nice side of town. I chose the gym because I liked the programs there and it was up the street from me. 

One day as I was running on the treadmill a thought occurred to me, “I am the heaviest person in this gym.”  I easily had twenty pounds if not more on all of the women and some of the men.  It was a gym of extremely fit people.   

It wasn’t a bad gym at all.  The instructors of the classes learned my name, always said “Hi” to me when I was in class, and encouraged me when they saw me in the gym outside of class.  The staff was very encouraging too, although sometimes I got the feeling from my personal trainer that he felt like he was assigned to a sinking ship. 

I also witnessed extreme acts of athleticism in this place.  I once saw a man pull his whole self up.  Not a chin up.  He went from hanging vertically from his arms to then pulling his entire body up 90 degrees to a horizontal position and then he twisted his body one way, then the other.  

I also saw a tiny woman jump from the ground to the top of a box that was probably six feet tall.  People were swinging heavy ropes and doing all sorts of activities with large chains tied around their waists.  As I watched these amazing people, I thought the same thing that I think when I watch Olympic high jumpers, “These people should fight crime or start stealing stuff.”

I soon moved away and joined other gyms.  But on TV I kept catching ads for P90X.  They would show these amazing transformations where moderately fit people would change into ridiculously cut people.  Although the results were exciting, none of the before people looked like me.  Actually, I really would be ok if my “after” could look like some of their “before.” And they kept talking about how it is so effective because of something called “muscle confusion”.  Every time I exercise my muscles are confused. “What’s going on?” “Why are we moving so fast?” “Is someone chasing us?” “Are we fighting crime or did we steal something?”

The overwhelming feeling is that I am not fit enough to get fit.  I don’t always know where to start, and even if I did I just can’t seem catch up fast enough.  But I always knew that running was a good start, and although I wasn’t fast, my form was never that bad.

But I recently read an article from a friend, which claims that running is not effective in weight loss. My friend recommended, High Intensity Interval Training or HIIT.  

I pinterested “ HIIT work out for beginners,” and, well, not only did everything sound like it would hurt my knees, but there were words in there that  I had no idea what they meant.  How does one punch a plank? Do I need a pick axe to do the mountain climber? And isn’t a burpee something I did to my child when she was small?

Once again I am a stranger in a foreign land.  I don’t speak the language.  I barely know the diet.  And everybody looks different than me.

My main problem with fitness is that it always comes at the expense of my pride.  I don’t need to tell you why jumping jacks by a person who has 100 pounds to lose is an embarrassing thing.  Let’s just say everything…moves… too much.

So what am I going to do, stop exercising?  Just let myself get soft and ineffective? And don’t I eventually want to be the kind of person that can fight crime or steal stuff, or at least be fit enough to be their side kick, or perhaps their butler?

So I am going to do more research, watch some you tube videos and probably do a lot of squats.  I think squats are still good.