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I took a beautiful drive out to the fitness studio to meet the guy I was thinking of hiring as my personal trainer. It felt like a long drive, but it was only about 20 minutes out and I enjoyed seeing the countryside and horses and trees.

His buildings are beautiful. Southwest architecture of red stucco rectangles with rounded corners and wood beams extruding from the walls. It looked like a perfect retreat.

Mr. W. was in his little gym, waiting for me at a desk. It's a lovely studio- obviously meant for two people to do nothing but sweat. He shook my hand and we introduced ourselves. He asked what my goals are.

To lose weight and tone up. "Do you have a specific number? Do you know what you want to look like?" I ought to remember to tell him that I'm a fiddle player and that I want arms that are nice to look at when I play.

But I told him I'd been fit before and I'd know it when I saw it. I wasn't looking for a number so much as to feel fit and healthy and to be able to wear pretty clothes. He seemed to appreciate that answer as well as hearing that I was already doing cardio and I was kinda nutrition savvy.

He sold me 6 weeks of sessions at 2 sessions a week. Fridays at 2:30, Wednesdays at 4:30 (Oo. Must remind him I'm going to a baseball next Wednesday- maybe we can move it to Tuesday?) It was more than I really wanted to spend, but it was better than Ballys and the guy is obviously committed. He keeps a folder on each of his trainees with detailed logs of their progress. He told me to get some whey protein shots. Apparently there is a Window Of Opportunity of about 45 minutes to boost the healing ability of muscles after they've been killed.

And killing seems to be what this guy is about.

"I won't yell at you, but I'll work you hard," he said. And I believe him. I believed him when he said I was going to be SORE this weekend. I believed it when he said people have cried in his little studio.

I wonder if I'll be one of them?

He's all about the protein and that sort of bothers me- he really promotes the meat and I think he has an outdated idea of amino acids. But then, maybe not. He seemed pleased that I was at least eating chicken and fish.

How much protein a day do I need?

"As long as you're here, let's go ahead and get your body fat percentage."

He weighed me: 184, dressed.

He gave me the Pinch Test and measured around various parts of my body with a tape measure. But I don't remember all those numbers.

And then he got out his calculator. "What do you think your body fat percentage is?" he asked me.

"Normal is what? 18% to 22%? I'd guess between 24% and 26%- so say 25%."

Mr. W. fiddled with his calculator and said, "Oh, you're GOOD! 24.9%."

So my protein intake is supposed to be about 131 grams per day. PER DAY!? I really am going to have kind of a hard time with that, I think. I just don't eat that much protein. More tuna fish I guess, snack on some of those string cheese snack things...

"You could boil eggs in the... oh, you don't like eggs."

He must have caught the scrunchy face I was making.

He had a group class coming in soon- a spring boot camp that he drills out in the yard- so he gave me a bottle of water and walked me to my truck. Seeing the package of rice cakes in the front seat, he made a face himself. "Ew, rice cakes. At least they're brown rice- you've got the right kind."

Sharp eyes. I'm glad I threw out the bag from Panda Express before I left.

First session: This Friday at 2:30. Remember to eat a banana before leaving work.

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lynn

April 2010

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