It started so well. I got up incredibly early to make sure that I was ready for my first personal training session. I had laid out my kit the night before, black capri running tights, black sports bra (industrial strength), black T shirt and shoes. I had a light breakfast with blueberries for extra antioxidants and then walked the seven minutes to the gym.
As I waited in reception I smiled encouragingly at at least three young men whom I thought were my trainer, all of whom looked at me in confusion (and slight horror) and continued on their way. Finally my trainer did arrive, all six foot 3 of him. Once we had introduced ourselves he sat down and we went through a series of questions about my exercise history, past injuries and what I wanted to achieve. This last question made me want to point at a very lithe thirtyish woman who was running on one of the treadmills and say “I want a body like that” but I went with the more realistic “I just want to get fitter and lose some weight”.
He then took me into the gym, and made me lie facedown on a mat. As I lay there thinking that the session wasn’t going to be so hard after all, he grabbed my legs and attempted to bend them into various unnatural positions. Seeing his face fall after failing to place me in what I can only assume is a very advanced yoga pose, I asked if I had a problem. Apparently my hip flexors are too tight and therefore my buttocks are not firing correctly. Apparently buttocks have to fire to push you forwards. Who knew? The solution in my case is endless squats with a kettlebell.
The day after, I can say that my beleaguered buttocks are still not firing and are now incapable of carrying me up and down the stairs. I am so stiff that every step is agony. But as the saying goes, “no pain, no gain”. Next week my trainer says we will concentrate on my core. He’ll have to find it first!