For Christmas this year my mom gave me three gift certificates for personal training sessions. What a great gift! I'm always trying to get in shape and lets face it, it's difficult (and all of you buff or tiny athletes can just shut up. I'm talking about my fellow carb-lovers). I've tried everything; I think its just hard for me to stay consistent and I don't typically choose very good accountability partners-they usually binge with me. So I was psyched out of my mind (and a little nervous) in anticipation of my first session.
My trainers name is Sanya: a cool bleach blond 40-something that's crazy ripped. She's very nice and personable and I was feeling great about our upcoming session together. We started out with a little warm up that was no big deal, but quickly moved into some intense cardio. I immediately went from feeling good to feeling...dead. I was thinking, "I've got to get out of here." She had me jumping on and off of this high stool, alternating feet and going at a seriously fast pace. I'm not incredibly coordinated when it comes to...I don't know, things like that. Or perhaps just exercising in general. But I generally think of myself as an athletic person (or at least average) and let me tell you, I wasn't feelin it just then. She was probably working me so hard because I'm young and let's face it, I should be in better shape.
I am out of shape.
So as I'm jumping on and off of this giant pain-in-my-ass stool, Sanya's chatting with a passer-by that had a fitness question. Before we began our session Sanya had asked me if I ever pass out. "Uh, no" I said, a little bit cocky. "Well you'd be surprised; I've had a lot of clients black out on me". I was thinking that there was nothing for her to worry about. No way I would pass out. Never have, and probably never will.
Well as I was jumping I missed the step and fell. Bugger. She rushed over to me, and I was attempting to laugh it off because it was humiliating and I felt like a big fat retard. "Let's...uh, try something else, shall we?" 'Can we try like, sitting?' I wanted to say.
We started another routine but I was having trouble focusing as Sanya tried to explain the steps to me. Everything was getting fuzzy. I was feeling a little bit queezy, and...dizzy. Apparently my face was showing it because with a concerned look she asked if I was doing alright. My response: tripping my way into the bathroom. I sat for a few minutes over the toilet ready to puke. Soon it would pass and I would try and stand up but to no avail-that stupid puke monster always came back, so I would sit back down again. I had begun to feel bad for the trainer who's time I was wasting. So I got up and unlocked the stall door. Sanya was looking at me funny. "Do you feel like you're going to pass out honey?" I tried to explain to her that I have no idea what that feels like, because I never have passed out before. But that was soon to change. She ran up and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the fitness room. She laid me down on a yoga mat and put my feet up on an exercise ball. IN THE MIDDLE OF A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE. With my hands over my head she fanned me and put cold cloths on my head.
I had started to pass out. She kept reassuring me that it happens all the time, blah blah blah, but who cares if it happens all the time?! Here I am laying down, the weeny that almost passed out after working out for fifteen minutes. The room was also filled with hot, buff guys, so that was a plus. All in all, it turned out to be quite a first experience. I will say that my sessions since have been great, because I don't want to discourage any of you from trying it. Just make sure you eat breakfast at least an hour ahead of time, don't drink too much water, and don't think that you are invincible. I did and I was dead wrong.