A whole new "Weight-Game"...

A couple of months ago, whenever conversation turned to gym workouts and fitness routines, I would always say “Oh no, I never do anything with weights – it just looks like pure TORTURE!” So how is it that I have learnt a whole new lexicon of words – dumbbell squats, deadlifts, point of failure, eccentric contraction – and can often be found lurking in the free weights zone or on the leg press? I have finally been introduced to the gleaming silver machines which I used to simply march past on my way to spin classes and can appreciate exactly which muscles they target. My weight-training programme has begun in earnest and – to my great surprise – I have rather taken to it.

I was initially apprehensive when my trainer, M ,outlined his plans for me and he could sense my reluctance. The trouble is, I am addicted to the “Cardio-High” that I get from spinning, high intensity interval training (HIIT) and (before my hip gave up) running. I love that feeling of post-workout exertion – breath coming out in rasps, chest burning as though it had been scoured with a wire brush, legs heavy with fatigued legs....I could go home happy, confident that I had earned my food for that day. I worried that weight training wouldn’t give me the same feeling of having “worked hard” – how could I be confident that I had done enough? Would I feel guilty that I hadn't "earned" the right to eat?

I wonder why they call it a "dead-lift"?

What convinced me in the end was M’s assurance that weight training was essential to promote lean muscle gain over fat deposition as I increased the calories in my diet. After all, if I HAVE to put on weight to go back to University, I want it to the right sort! And it certainly wouldn't hurt me to have a bit more muscle, especially on my arms. During my worst years of starvation, I carried on running so my legs were spared a lot of deterioration - so my body turned to my arms as a source of protein. They dwindled away to nothing yet my wind was so warped, I couldn't even see the difference in the mirror. Even now, they remain pathetically weak. I'm fed up of being the "damsel in distress" who always needs a strong gent to help her get her bag onto the luggage rack on the train!

So two times a week, I go through my exercises under M's direction. Leg extension, rear-rows, leg curl, pull-downs, etc. Apparently, my technique is good....a shame that the weights are so pitifully low! I feel such a weed next to the "big boys"...especially when the Sheffield Eagles Rugby Squad troop in. Some of them can shift weights twice as heavy as my entire body!

On the read-row...who would have thought it?

But I can only improve and I have already managed to "up the weight" for a few exercises. Then again, I do have a long way to go before I even have a semblance of the strength of a "normal" person. And meanwhile, I have been struggling to manage a "weights-only" routine and often end up doing a bit of cardio to get a bit of "burn"...

Yet it does show that it is possible to change your mindset, even in the depths of this disease. It's a skill I will have to put in place once the weight goes on and I struggle to cope with this...