The first time I noticed a change in my body since I started lifting weights was two weeks into my program. I turned to my brother and said, “Dude, I think I’m getting fat.”
He got a good laugh at me, poked my arm jiggle, and then pointed out that I’d already started gaining muscle but hadn’t yet lost fat. So although I was making positive changes with my health, for a little bit I was indeed going to be bigger as the muscle pushed the fat out further.
Well, it didn’t take too long until most of this perceived swelling receded and I was left with some visible muscles. Like a man in the shower who can’t help but make a shampoo mohawk and be amused every single time, whenever I get down to my sports bra, I can’t help but flex in the mirror and laugh from shock at the muscle lines that are now there.
So far I’ve made great gains in strength. (Ahem, I’ve nearly tripled my bench press max in six months!) However, besides that initial swelling where my newly-formed muscles were pushing out my layer of fat, I hadn’t seen any changes. I know that something has already shifted since I’m wearing pants and skirts I haven’t worn in well over a year, but seeing, believing, blah blah blah.
That being said, I saw a sign at my gym about getting my body fat percentage measured. I meant to do this in December when I first started lifting, but I was too scared to ask my brother to give me the not-so-skinny (har har) on the matter. After four months of being fairly consistent, I gussied up my embarrassment and let the trainer pinch me, wrap my in measuring tape, and weigh me.
I was none too pleased when I got the numbers. If after four months, that’s where I was… Wow. The initial numbers would have really freaked me out.
That being said, I’ll give my you-stupid-skinny-chick disclaimer: Yes, I’ve always been looking all right. I look better in the buff than a very large portion of the world. However, I also acknowledge that there are gains that can be made. Some people aim to have the best rose garden in the neighborhood and spend their time pruning and shearing those thorned beauties. I, on the other hand, chose my bod as my focus. So please keep your scorn for my vanity to yourself. I could have way worse habits — including those that affect others negatively. You can choose to let my actions make you feel badly about yourself, tap me for some of my know-how in your similar quest, or just read this with indifference and hope I eventually say something snarky about my abysmal dating life. That being said, let’s get back to my entry.
So, the numbers. Bigger than I thought they’d be after this long. However, it kinda made sense since I didn’t *see* anything too significantly different with my physique.
Since being measured by the trainer (ahem, the very cute trainer), I’ve been busting my ass. Each lunch period is spent in the gym. My meals are bagged and tagged and tracked. I spend my evenings reading body building web sites to learn all I can about what I’m doing. It’s no secret that I get a little obsessive about new topics and wanting to learn all I can about them.
Then earlier last week, it finally happened. Above my knee, on the outside of my leg, that muscle popped out and stayed there. No flexing required! How cool is that?!
Then yesterday, I caught a glimpse in the mirror. My already-flat stomach has a couple lines along the sides. And my arms, when pressed against my sides, aren’t nearly as flabby as before. And my nearly-cankles are now skinny ankles. And when I pinch my calves, it’s hard to grab much.
HOLY CRAP! I’m finally SEEING a difference!
Couple finally seeing this with the trainer at the gym being very cute, and I’m quite motivated to get in there, focus on even more gains, shun bad-for-me foods, and perhaps even *GASP* cut back on the booze.
Okay… We won’t go there yet…
Well, here’s to your health, a rockin’ bod, the occasional buzz, and a good night’s sleep. G’nite all.