Six weeks down, four more to go!

Sitting here by the fire, sipping decaf Chai Tea, watching the tail end of the Daytona 500 and looking for some writing inspiration. I haven't had too much inspiration lately basically because I'd just be repeating myself and that's kind of boring. So rattle, rattle, rattle. Repeat, repeat, repeat. And.... go!

I finally complained to the program director about my issues with our trainer. I am so happy that I wasn't the first one to complain because that means I'm not the only one who had problems. Occasionally I find that I'm having major problems with something or someone but I'm alone in my thinking and no one else cares. I was leery about even mentioning my issues but it finally just bubbled over. I was mentally and physically to the point where I almost wanted to give up and stop going to workouts. 60 miles round trip is not worth the effort if you have a crappy trainer. Much to my surprise and delight, something was actually done about the issue and tonight's class (with our scheduled trainer) was AWESOME. Not only was everyone is great spirits but we did a workout that actually felt like a workout. Granted, I won't be able to feel or use my arms tomorrow but we'll discuss that tomorrow.

Something happened during our workout today that was a huge revelation. Not to mention it was almost hugely revealing. We were doing jumping jacks and my pants practically fell to the floor. I was able to save the lives and eyesight of many people tonight by using my newly discovered spiderman reflexes to catch my pants before it was revealed that my underwear was falling down too. Seriously. My pants AND my underwear. I mean, when did that happen? When did I lose enough weight for something like that to happen? How did I not notice this before? I mean, I knew having my cell phone in my pocket was causing some issues while running but I didn't have a cell phone in my pocket tonight. Obviously, I need new (AND SMALLER) pants. There is a happy dance happening right now and you just can't see it!

So as I was thinking about my near catastrophic pants incident, I realized that my jeans fit differently also. Remember that shopping trip I took with my mom at the beginning of February? I bought new jeans, was amazed that they fit me in the dressing room, screamed blasphemy, etc? Well those pants are loose on me now. You know how your jeans fit when they come right out of the dryer? A couple months ago, my jeans came out of the dryer and didn't fit right until I did a few squats, walked a few laps around the kitchen island, and drove to work. Now, I pull my jeans out of the dryer and they are instantly my comfy jeans. Still flattering but not difficult to get on. Even better, I can pull them down without unbuttoning them. Ha! Take that Mr. Dryer!

I've suddenly come to the conclusion that my trainer has always been right. The number on the scale means nothing. I didn't have to do squats to make my freshly cleaned jeans fit better, I ran a 9 minute mile this last weekend, and even though I've eaten sorbet every night for the past week, it hasn't ruined anything. Ha! Take that you mean scale!

That's right!