Three months have flown by
It's not a long period of time, but at the beginning of this process, three months sounded daunting. That's 12 weeks, 90 days, 50 workouts, six of which have been with my personal trainer at
Ultimate Performance.
I'm nearing the end of the process and one on hand, I'm proud of my progress, yet I still feel I could have done more. Like getting a C at school, it'll do, but it's not something to write home about. Yet here I am, writing about it.
Maybe I shouldn't downplay my achievements - I've developed visible chest muscles, which weren't there before, have managed to gradually increase the load that I'm lifting and have achieved my minimum goal of feeling more confident with my shirt off.
The past week has been somewhat of a write-off though. Struggling a stinking cold induced by the changing of the seasons, I was bed-bound for two days, preventing me from working out. I've vowed to make up for that lost time by doing double sessions this week. We'll see how that goes.
I feel like I've hit a wall in some areas. I can't see myself managing to break through the barrier of lifting 8kg on each arm when I'm doing bicep curls, or on the shoulder press. I don't want to revert to the negative thinking that prevented me from going in the past, but my progress has definitely slowed down, as if my body refuses to go beyond a certain point. That being said, I've gained around 7kg, which I'm told is pretty good going.
Maybe I need a gym buddy. My sessions with my personal trainer are certainly a lot more intense and rewarding than those I do on my own. That's not down to any conscious laziness on my part - I don't think - it's just very difficult to replicate the motivation a personal trainer gives you when you're training solo. However, Apple Music's Pop Throwback playlist does help. God bless Natasha Beddingfield.
I now have to take full advantage of my final week; no more slacking in the gym, eating properly, sleeping enough - which has been one of the main problems. I can't ever seem to get to sleep before 1am, and my changing shift pattern means I will occasionally get just the four hours sleep, or as I did the other day, 13.
Stricter bed times are a must, as is avoiding beer, and squeezing out every ounce of effort while I'm in the gym. Speaking of which, I'm off for my second workout of the day.
