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What? Me Work Out?

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Alexandra Vaillancourt

Dateline Boston — Something happened to me this summer. Well, it may have been happening to me for over a year, but some time around August it became hard to ignore. My clothes started fitting me differently. Now, this has occurred in my past. I’ve read that a person’s body changes every seven years. Sounds about right. Seven yeas ago, the two pairs of shorts I had suddenly lost their ability to be buttoned. That darn dryer! I was really in a state of denial that my hips had…shifted. It took me two years to come to terms with the truth.

And here we are again. My body has…morphed. Gravity has taken over, and something that resembles a small inner tube has appeared around my middle. I knew it was noticeable a few months ago when Toddler, being just the right height, mushed his fingers into my soft belly, then slowly creeped them upwards. Yep, it felt the same.

I decided to be firm with myself and get firm in my belly. I joined a gym for the first time in my life. I was interested in a gym that two people had told me about. I went up to the man at the desk and said, “I’d like to join. $30 for 30 days. Let’s go.” The guy smiled and told me to back up a minute. Unfortunately, that special wasn’t offered anymore, but I was shown a laminated sheet of prices that I could choose from. There were lots of options. He recommended I do the 21-Day Fat Burning Something or Other (for a lot more than $30), and then I could do a regular membership. I told him I had had $30 in my head, so I would have to go home and think about it.

This Won’t Take Long

I went home, thought about it, and returned two days later. BAM! Here’s my credit card. I’m ready to burn some fat!

I’ve burned fat. I’ve sweated more than I have all summer. I have used a treadmill and elliptical for the first time. The treadmill feels like walking. The elliptical is a modern version of a type of torture device.

I’ve also lifted more than 29,000 pounds. I know, because everything at this gym is computerized. It’s great. There’s a little monitor that shows you how to do the exercises, and there’s a line that shows you how fast or slow to lift the weights. Your goal is to keep a line within a box—it feels like a video game. At the end of each set, you get a score of how well you did. My average score is 89 percent. Of course I want to get 100 percent, so I’m motivated to work harder.

Muscles exist in my body that I never knew existed. There are these ones in my arms, I forget what they’re called, but apparently they’re not used very much. I can tell, because the first time I lifted weights with these muscles, I couldn’t do it! The amazing thing about the body is that it remembers. A few minutes later, I could do exercises just a little bit better than the first time.

My abs? Where that tire is? Well, I guess I never use those. I got a personal training session in which I had to hold a heavy basketball (a medicine ball?), sit on my butt, lift my legs, and twist back and forth, holding the ball. Again, torture, only this time inflicted by a human. She had to hold my legs to stop me from flailing.

I’m eating better, too! I’m getting suggestions from my trainers, lists of groceries to buy, and recipes that are easy to follow. If I can stay away from pizza, pasta and pumpkin muffins, I’ll be okay.

I’ll keep you posted. Meanwhile, I’ll be working on those muscles. Even if I don’t know what they’re called.

Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com

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