I feel like I'm starring in The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and I'm seriously worried that Gregory, my t'ai chi instructor, and Colin, my personal trainer, are going to be arrested for my kidnapping. I am totally baffled. I don't know who this person is inside my body any more. I used to feel weak and depressed. I felt like I was carrying about 15 monkeys on my back. Now, I feel like I'm sitting on a throne and people are carrying me. Walking is no longer a monumental effort. Unfortunately, my cynical attitude hasn't improved much, and I still earn many buffs from Gregory for being on the defensive before I try new moves in t'ai chi, but I'm moving forward, warding off, repulsing the monkey and meeting the tiger on the mountain.
Still, I don't know who this person is who leaps out of my bed every morning. I'm not this person who feels no pain in my knee that had me on a walking stick two years ago. I'm not this person who actually feels strength in my knees that do all kinds of lunges and squats and twisting exercises while I'm holding a 25-pound kettle bell. My joy in life used to be to pig out while I watched Jillian Michaels torture people on The Biggest Loser. I relished the notion of stuffing my face while I watched Jillian abuse fat people. That's not any fun anymore. There's nothing satisfying about pigging out when I know I will have to jump in that pool and swim like a fish, perform tai chi contortions and climb those stairs to the gym so I can get tortured by Colin.
Since I last wrote "Gyms are not for fat people-Part II," I think Colin sought treatment for his obsession with breathing. He has replaced "breathe" with "higher." Everything is "higher." "Push your hands up higher. Raise your backside higher. Kick higher." His other mantra is "posture, posture, posture." The other day, he showed us how we all looked and walked with our bad posture. According to his demonstration, we move a lot like monkeys. Katharine and Natasha looked horrified at his demonstration, but I was actually happy to know that I have been promoted to a monkey. Remember, I started out with a hump, like a camel. For me, being grouped with my fellow bipeds is a step up in the world. I've been elevated to the primate family.
The gym is the one place I have discovered where I can groan from muscle pain-the good kind. Gregory will buff me for complaining. Colin will say, "I want it to hurt. I want you to feel like your arms and legs are going to fall off. Cah, cah, cah." That's Colin laughing in the face of pain-mine, not his. But it's all part of the plan: that ultimate, magical transformation that was supposed to lead us to a spot on the Oprah Winfrey show. Colin is trying to figure out where we'll go now if I morph into one of those sleek, sinewy, cat-like creatures with muscles like a puma. "Oprah's not on the air now," Colin reminds me. "Maybe we'll have to go on Ellen."
But seriously, you just have to find exercise that you like to do. You need exercise for your body, mind and spirit. That means something like walking, hiking, jogging, dancing or swimming; yoga or some type of martial arts. Combining different exercises-exercise freaks call it cross training-is like making a good pelau. The more ingredients, the better the result. Exercise definitely changed my life. I have lost 66 pounds over the last two years with a sensible eating plan from Weight Watchers online. I've kept my weight off for over a year. I agree with the Weight Watcher's philosophy: "Stop dieting and start living." That means eat healthy, bulk out your food so you get plenty to eat, exercise and lose slowly and sensibly. Don't give up the food you love.
Of course it's always a challenge, but it helps to think of it as just that-a challenge, rather than a problem or a struggle. The bottom line is this: If I can lose weight anyone can. All it takes is perseverance and the willingness to take one day at a time. Once you start to exercise, you'll discover a whole new world. You'll be surprised at what can happen. One day I was in the gym grumbling about floor exercises on the TRX. "There's nothing fun or easy about this thing when you have to go on the floor," I mumbled when Colin turned his back. "If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth it," a voice behind me said. I turned, and there, sitting on a bench, was George Bovell III: the swimmer; the Olympic medalist. I gulped and nodded as he got up to work with Colin. Just imagine: me in a gym working out with George Bovell. Well, not exactly, but you know what I mean.