Normally I meet Daniel at 6 a.m. but he’s going to a wedding this weekend in Louisiana so we met an hour earlier. He’s been rearranging my training schedule because his own schedule is in flux and I decide to text him this morning at 4:30 a.m. to make sure he was going to show up, since he rescheduled this session twice on me already, once literally five minutes before start time.
Normally he answers text messages in a nanosecond, so I’m a little nervous he is sleeping in. I am also a little annoyed at his new-found flakiness and tired at having to wake up at 3:45 to get everything ready so I could get a half hour cardio routine in before we met, lest I hear the dreaded, “when I say 30 minutes of cardio that’s 30 minutes, not 23ish,” speech, especially if he is going to cancel on me again.
But I’m pretty happy overall because I stepped on the scale and lo and behold I weighed 119!!! It’s been over a decade since I was that thin – 2001 to be exact. It was the year before my father got really, really sick. I can’t help but smile. I am at the traffic light, ready to turn into 24 Hour Fitness when my phone buzzes.
From: Daniel, 4:30 AM: Wow! That’s awesome! That’s some good work! We are going to do measurements today.
As part of Daniel’s cure for my natural lack of sweating he has me exercise dressed like I’m preparing to descend upon the Arctic. But if I’m getting measured, that means after finishing my cardio I have to change into more normal work out clothes so I can get pinched and prodded by that fat calculator. Everything is going down, down, down. I’m in sheer bliss. It’s better than a Hostess chocolate cupcake. And then…
Excuse me? I’m losing too much weight? This is honestly the first time ever that I heard something like that said to me.
He continued looking at all my measurement calculations, shaking his head. “You’re 56 days out. If I reduce your calories now it won’t be good. Besides, you can lose ten pounds real quick.”
“Tell that to my ass,” I said.
His lip quirked into a half smile at my comment and then went serious, as if preparing himself for battle with me. “I know you are probably going to disagree, but I want you off the fat burners this weekend.”
“Ok,” I said brightly.
I don’t think he heard me agree because he continued, “So stop focusing on your weight and just trust me! And I might have to add some calories back in your diet, even though it doesn’t make sense to you.”
“That’s fine. I trust you,” I said with a smile.
He eyed me warily, obviously anticipating my patented Lisa Traugott eye roll complete with exhaling loudly in disagreement and seemed mildly confused at the utter lack of rebellion on my part.
The truth is I TOTALLY DISAGREE with him; I still need to lose weight in my stomach. But he’s been right about everything else thus far so I will keep my doubts as internal dialogue and blog posts and just do what he tells me to do.
It got us to the exercise machines faster, anyway. 🙂