Posted on my Weight Watchers blog on July 31st, 2012…
I AM A CROSSTRAINING CHAMPION!
YES, I AM.
OH YES, I AM.
No I shan’t mention that in the race I had today I totally got my butt whipped. I’m still a champion.
Here’s the story…
Because you totally knew there would be a story because, hey, this is me you’re reading.
I got to the gym today after having regrouped from the little incident that happened during yesterday’s session with the B!tch Twins (yes, they now have a name) and decided to shake up my routine a bit and do something a touch harder than just the treadmill.
I looked at the crosstrainer.
It looked back at me.
I glared at the crosstrainer.
It glared back at me.
I narrowed my eyes at the crosstrainer.
The crosstrainer was all “C’mon, you ain’t got the cojones to start on me today. Go for a stroll on Mr Treadmill over there, princess…”
And I was all, “OH NO YOU DI’INT!”
(Like my impression of a black drag queen? Am I stereotyping? Oops.)
I punched 30 minutes into that sucker, on a moderately difficult setting (because going hard into the unknown is a bad thing, y’all) and hopped on.
20 minutes later I was dying, legs burning, hands clinging desperately to the grips, reps dropping below 60rpm…
Dammit, the crosstrainer was winning.
I was cowed. Beaten by a mostly inanimate object with an attitude.
But not quite. Salvation was at hand.
“Don’t stop,” I hear beside me.
Looking to my left, I discovered The Grunter doing his thing on the crosstrainer next to mine. And he was whipping that thing’s ass!
“Huhn?” Me, eloquent always.
Now, dear reader, I love hearing those words from a man, but in a completely different scenario… possibly one that involves leather handcuffs and vanilla custard…
I was despairing. “But…”
“C’mon,” he says, leaning to look at my screen, “You got 10 more minutes. So do I. Let’s see how far you can get.”
Me, out loud: “Um, ‘kay….”
Me, mentally: “ARRRRRGGGGGHHHH NOOOOO IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU!!”
But I did it. I got my reps back up to above 70rpm and stayed there, even when the program started to increase the incline again. For 10 solid minutes The Grunter and I were heads down, throwing our all in on those machines. I was going at a snail’s pace compared to him and got most of a kilometer in distance whereas I think he might have smashed out another six, but hey… I’ve never had so much fun losing a race before.
Why am I happy about it?
Because 18 months ago, I couldn’t manage five minutes on 0 incline and level 2 resistance.
Today I managed, for the first time ever, to go a full 30 minutes on an incline that was anywhere between 10 and 40 on level 4.
Without stopping once.
Yep. I’m a champion today.