Workout Diary: Day One

I am the only girl in the gym in baggy pants. The ONLY one. I feel disoriented by the jungle of machinery I have no clue how to work. I'm like the fat kid who's come to the gym for the first time, and he's super out of shape and huffing and puffing on the elliptical after only a few minutes. Only, I'm not the fat kid. I'm the skinny kid with bad posture. I'm drowning in my clothes. And I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
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I am underweight. Let's just put that right out there. I know it. Don't point it out. Don't tell me to eat more. Stop wrapping your fingers around my freakishly thin wrists. No, I'm not anorexic. I'm not bulemic. I'm simply underweight the way many people are overweight. This may sound strange to you, but I struggle gaining weight probably as much as some people struggle losing it. I know it's different, because the mass media glorifies skinny girls and tiny arms and thin legs. I understand that. But I am here to tell you that I struggle too, and it's hard, and sometimes it really sucks.

I have been very slowly but steadily losing weight over the past six months. I've been tracking the loss and doing what I can to compensate for it: trying to eat more, healthier, fattier, proteinier foods. I drink whole milk. I eat avocados. I carry a tin of nuts around with me to snack on, and I choke down Luna bars when I can stand them. Still, my eating habits could be better. I could snack less on empty stuff. I could eat more vegetables. Less sugar. More whole grains. There is room for improvement here.

Most discouragingly, I've tried to start exercising regularly over the past six months, but it seems like every time I try to get into a routine, I get sick. Then I lose ground. And it is SO hard to start at zero again and again and again. Travis has invited me to come to the gym with him periodically, and I always have some excuse. Usually it's legitimate: I don't have enough energy; I have a headache; I haven't eaten well enough. So, he goes and I end up at home, sedentary.

Travis invited me to go to the gym again today. I tried to put him off with the usual excuses--and I truly wasn't feeling all that great. But I stop myself halfway through and, with tears dangerously close to the surface, say, "Honey, I just feel like I'm wasting away! I don't know what to do." Part of the reason I find it hard to exercise is that it is hard for me to get enough caloric intake each day because I can only eat so much at a time (and seriously. I do NOT have time to each six little meals a day.) "You just have to work through it," he said. It's hard at first.
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I go run on the elliptical for twenty minutes so that he and his buddies can do their heavy lifting without me hanging around, hands awkwardly in baggy pants pockets.

I hate cardio. I hate the idea of all those precious calories being wasted on running. I know that's probably the wrong way to think about it, but I cannot afford to lose more weight. I CANNOT LOSE MORE WEIGHT. But the elliptical feels okay, so I keep it up till my thighs burn.

After that, Travis helps me curl 25 pounds. That is about five pounds more than I am comfortable with, but I am able to do it. My impotent arms shake but I manage to squeak out three sets. Then I use ten pounds in each hand to work shoulders. Then triceps with one of those rope-pull things. I give myself a break in between each set. When I feel my muscles stop recovering, I know the workout is over for me. That moment comes pathetically soon.

I am a dancer. WAS a dancer. I used to be in peak physical condition. How diminished I have become. My goal is to tone my body back to what is could be, and has been: strong. But I need a lot of support. I need a lot of optimism, because right now I am scared and weak and small.

I am so thankful I have Travis to help me do this.