Eight Pounds, Eight Weeks

Guess what today is? Guess! Guess! Can you? Can you? Huh? Can you?

You can't?

Oh.

OK, well, it is exactly two months before my thirtieth birthday. Thirty. THIR-TEE. Unbelievable, really. I'm really sort of suddenly surprised that the blur that was my Twenties is about to vanish for good. I'm not ready to reflect on that first decade of my (supposed) adulthood just yet, but stay tuned. A long-winded, self-centered, self-indulgent, self-pitying post on What I've Decided My Twenties Were All About is eminent, I'm sure. Lucky you, Mr. or Ms. Beleaguered reader! Good times.

So, I have re-joined a gym. But not just any old gym, mind you. I have left the overcrowded, noisy, utterly undercleaned Bally's behind in my quest for more exercise. I have joined Spectrum Health Club, people. And so far, so good.

I'd taken a hiatus from the gym after finding myself just plain sick of it. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I became so very tired of Bally's, of which I'd been a member for five sweaty years. And it's not that Bally's has disgusting horrible gyms all around; on the contrary, the Culver City and West L. A. and Hollywood branches are all large, decently equipped facilities. It's that they're just not well maintained. Equipment is always broken, the air is always fetid, the locker-room floors are coated with grime and curly hairs. And oh, the crowding. It was never, "What cardio machine do I want to use today?" but rather, "Well, which machine is free?" Or worse yet, "OK, all the machines are taken. I'll wait here in this line and adopt the vigilance of a Buckingham Palace guard to ensure no one snags a treadmill out of turn."

But now, Spectrum Health Club. For starters, membership is month to month, so I'm not trapped in any kind of labyrinthine multi-year contract like I was with Bally's. I can honest to god quit AT ANY TIME. And good thing, too, because the dues are expensive! This is how they keep from overcrowding the facility, it seems. It's elitist, it's snooty, it goes against my vaguely Socialist ideals, and it makes me feel slightly fraudulent, since I'm not rich like many of the members ... but I do appreciate being able to show up at 5:45, during peak after-work hours, and have my pick of cardio machines, no waiting. I should mention here that my work reimburses me forty bucks' worth of my dues each month, which makes membership doable for me. Otherwise? No way in hell.

So. Eight weeks, eight pounds. I realized on the elliptical trainer yesterday that today, June 17th, marks the beginning of my Eight-Week Countdown to 30. And I thought, Oh, that's funny, I happen to be eight pounds overweight. And then I recalled that a pound-a-week weight loss is supposed to be healthy and feasible, and then I thought, Hey! Why don't I try to lose one pound per week, every week, 'til my thirtieth birthday? That works out to eight pounds in eight weeks, see? So. That's the plan. I'm not really going to diet, per se, since clearly I ain't the dieting type. But I am going to work out regularly, which I need to do anyway, to lower my cholesterol (189) and increase my muscle strength and cardiovascular capacity. And I'm going to forego many of my usual foodie treats: cookies, cake, tortilla chips, huge burritos full of cheese, that type of thing. Basically, I'm going to eat and workout the way I know I should, for eight weeks. It would be nice to welcome The Big Three-Oh feeling healthier and more fit. I think it would help me feel better about getting older.

As for the DVD home workouts that I love so much: I'm not doing away with those. I love 10-Minute Solution Pilates! I'm going to do my home workouts every so often, for variety, when I need a reprieve from the gym. Maybe once a week or so.

So, today before I work out, I'll weigh myself. Then, this weekend, I'll gather up all my little scraps of pride, work them into a tight ball, punt that ball out my living-room window, and post the number here, on this blog. And I'll update my progress each week. Probably a bit boring and tedious for you, but strangely motivating for me. OK?