It's All In Your Head

http://msnbc.msn.com/id/11693610/

I came across this article last week while I was "working." (Let's be honest, there's only so much work for temps to do ... you get to check your e-mail A LOT).

It struck me how true it is.

Getting in shape and staying in shape is all mental. Ironic, because the sore muscles and exhausted bodies that come with exercise might make you think that it's all physical. If only that were the case; it would make things a whole lot easier.

I think about how at this time last year, I never went to the gym.

Sometimes if one of my roommates was going I would tag along. Or I would get on a kick and decide that this was the day/week/month I was going to start working out. But when I went, I just wandered around aimlessly, not having a clue what you actually did in a gym. Well, I mean, I knew intellectually. But practically, you might as well have been asking me to speak Chinese. All those machines. All those free weights. All those pretty Loyola girls in their ridiculously skimply workout clothes working off the 10 calories they'd eaten for lunch that day.

The truth was, I wasn't anywhere near comfortable or confident enough to become a workout fanatic. I was self-conscious about my body and my overall level of fitness and going to the gym just shined a big spotlight on all of my insecurities.

Then one day after graduation I was driving around Darien and I passed by this building that I thought was a water company (it always had been for as long as I'd lived in town). But all of the sudden, it had this big sign out front: "Fitness Together." I remembered my mother saying something about a new gym opening so, since I decided that upon graduation I would bite the bullet and join a gym, I parked, walked in and asked for some information.

Turns out, it wasn't really a gym (well at least not what I think of when I think of a gym), but a personal training service. "One Client, One Trainer, One Goal" -- that was the slogan (and, let's be honest, I made fun of it all the time). But, there was truth in advertising. It was you and your trainer in a room for 45 minutes. No super-skinny Loyola girls. No wandering around aimlessly. There was someone to show you how to use the machines, and correct you when you were doing things wrong, and motivate you when you wanted to quit.

At first, it was torture. I was so out of shape. I couldn't do much of anything. But I was determined. And maybe even more importantly, Kevin and Erik (my awesome trainers, or "the boys" as my mother called them) were determined for me. They kicked my ass. But they listened, and they understood. They challenged me and they encouraged me. They didn't let me make excuses.

Above all, they made me look forward to going to the gym. Because they were friendly and funny and because they made fun of me all the time (but I guess the sight of me falling off the pull-up bar was pretty entertaining).

And on days when I didn't want to do anything, Erik would ask me how many miles I was going to run that day, and I'd suck it up and run them.

And at times when I didn't want to do one more set of those horrendous ab exercises that I'm convinced he made up just to torture me, Kevin would say something to make me mad (because he definitely knew just what buttons to push) and I would do it, just to prove him wrong.

And it was all mental. I needed them. I needed that motivation. And when I decided to come back to Baltimore, I had to leave all of that behind. And I was so scared that I would go back to being the girl who was afraid of the gym. But eight months (and a lot of money -- personal trainers don't come cheap!) later, I was a totally different person than the one who walked through the door in June.

Erik and Kevin taught me well. And it's amazing what a little self-confidence can do.

Now, when I walk into Loyola's gym, I am comfortable. I know what I'm doing. In fact, I can tell all the hot-shot muscle-obsessed boys what they're doing wrong. And that's pretty cool.

Want to know what else is cool? To see how far I've come. And I'm not even talking about the physical. But to go from not even being able to run half a mile, to running 4, 5, 6 on a regular basis? To go from doing zero real pushups to doing 15, nose-to-the ground military style ones? To be able to hold my own in all different kinds of aerobics classes ... and not feel like a complete idiot? That's awesome. And it feels really good.

My grandmother was down visiting my aunt last week, so on Wednesday night after work I decided to go over and visit with them. Where I work is pretty much equidistant from Loyola and my Aunt's and so because I didn't want to fight rush hour traffic both ways and I didn't have a ton of time, I skipped the gym. And I felt so guilty. Well maybe not guilty, just not right.

It's hard without Erik and Kevin. I started working with a personal trainer because I knew that if I had appointment with someone to work out, I would get myself to the gym. It was added motivation.

No appointments anymore. No one waiting for me. I'm kind of on my own (although it's kind of scary how often I hear Kevin & Erik's voices in my head when I'm half-assing it). I have the tools to succeed; now it's up to me.

So here's the mental part -- I have to hold myself accountable. I have to go to the gym after working all day when the last thing I want to do is run on the treadmill. I have to, because I have to keep the gym and working out as a non-negotiable part of my lifestyle.

But I think, thanks to the help of a couple of really great people, that I can do that. I have the desire and the belief that I can succeed.

And that's the secret. Trust me. It's all in your head.