Stretching is Really Not Good for You

This is not going to be an exercise blog. Seriously. I didn't give this place a spiffy title like "Slimy Underbelly" to lure you all here and then force you to read about the exploits of me in workout clothes. At least not in general. But this was the first week back at the gym, and as such, I have an awful lot to say about it. Bear with me, there are some good Comcast and DirecTV rants to come!

Anyway, Thursday was my first session with the trainer at 24 Hour Fitness. Now I'm typically not a trainer person. At all. I've been going to the gym on and off since my early teens - what exactly is a trainer going to teach me? But in doing my nifty "prepay for 40 years of gym time" signup, the guy gave me $100 off to take 4 training sessions. So...$799 for three years with no trainer, or $699 for three years and 4 personal trainer sessions...I'll take the trainer. Not really a hard call; cheaper is cheaper.

I showed up Thursday morning around 11 at the gym down the street from work, ready to get my workout on. I get suited up (in a nifty Coca-Cola tank top and stretchy pants) and find my very own trainer. And she is approximately 18 and weighs ...90lbs soaking wet. Sweet. Oh well, maybe she's one of those tiny but powerful motivating types....or not... Tell you the truth, I didn't really get to find out. Apparently the first session of physical training mostly involves asking a bunch of questions about my fitness goals, measuring me in more ways than I thought were possibly, and something known only as "the squat test." Once that's all documented, we're "out of time" for session one (go figure) and just have time for some light stretching.

Well, stretching sounds better than nothing, so I traipse downstairs after my petite trainer-type. She reveals that my squat test (haha, that just sounds funny still) indicates that my calves and inner thighs are really tight - likely from cycling, as well as my lats - probably from typing too much. I'm sure all this blogging helps with that! So she busts out the foam roller (oh so reminiscent of physical therapy last year), and proceeds to show me how to roll the knots out of my calves. Wincing and shuddering, I struggle to imitate what she's doing without crying. When that's finally over, we move on to this horrid "mounting of the foam roller" exercise on the floor to work those inner thighs. All I can say is...thank goodness I hadn't identified and accidentally adopted this gym's creepy gym guy. I'm just not ready to share that show with the general public!

A benign set of exercise ball lat-muscle stretches later, and our session is at an end. I change back into something work appropriate and head to the office, kinda disappointed. For all of 24hr Fitness' hype about their trainers, I'd burned 60 minutes plus walk time and had nothing but three stretches to show for it. Not impressive! I'm not even sure I broke a sweat. How can you workout without being sweaty?

And then came Friday morning. Also known as the day I couldn't walk. I have no idea what that tiny trainer did to me, but I swear to you I walked better the day after a 100 mile bike ride than I did last Friday! I mean...it was absurd! Don't even get me started on my utter inability to raise my arms... I thought stretching was a good thing, meant to make your body happy! How can decimating range of motion possibly be the goal of stretching? Is this what happens at yoga? (If so, I'm SO not doing that!) Owie owie owie! I whimpered and whined every time I had to drag myself out of the desk chair...but they've convinced me to go back. I mean, if the trainer can work me that hard on stretches without me knowing until the next day...I'm pretty sure she'll give me a decent workout when we're actually, you know, doing something. (Please no bursting my bubble with tales of "lactic acid" being released...I'm trying to stay positive here!) Session two hits tomorrow, so we shall see...