Todays Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

New Year's Resolution

By von Welanetz Wentworth

'Hello Body,' I wrote in my journal and listened inwardly for an

answer.

My belly growled back, 'It's about time you paid some attention to me!'

How did my body and I lose rapport? It began in my agonizing year in

junior high when I grew eight inches in one year and didn't know what size

my

feet would be when my lanky form climbed out of bed in the morning. 'This

body,' I thought, 'is way out of control.' So I began to pretend that it

didn't exist. I fed and clothed it, but hoped if I otherwise ignored it, it

might go away.

Determined to heal my mind/body rift, I mustered my courage and marched

into a gym near my home, looking for a personal trainer. I had never done

any

deliberate exercise other than walking, so this was going to be a big

stretch.

The bronzed, sculpted woman at the desk could have been a model in a

muscle

magazine. Gathering my courage, I took a breath, and on the exhale I said,

" I'd

like a trial session. " Clearly bored by the prospect of a midlife client,

she

put me through an extraordinary number of impossible-for-me exercises, all

the

while pursing her lips and stealing seductive glances at herself in the

mirror.

She could have the mirror. Feeling old and frumpy, I hated every

minute on

the torture machines, but pride kept me in the game. Muttering 'this is

good

for me' like a mantra, I signed up for twelve sessions, and paid in advance.

Buyer's remorse descended like a dark cloud when I got home, but I

vowed to

do it for one month no matter what. The next day I could hardly move; every

muscle in my body ached. I canceled my appointment. Still sore two days

later,

I called and asked for my money back. No one returned my call; the

contract's

fine print told me no refunds. I'd gotten myself into this pickle and I

would

have to live with it.

For the next few months, I vented my anger doing exercise videos at

home.

It's too much trouble to go to a gym, I told myself. I like the privacy of

working alone. But these solo sessions at home were inconsistent, and I

knew I

needed weight training to get results.

One day my psychologist-daughter Lexi told me over lunch that she had

begun

working out at a gym and raved about the improvement in her body tone,

energy

level and stamina. Meanwhile, I recounted my hard luck story, getting tired

of

my whining litany.

Lexi offered to drive across town to join me at my gym so I bit the

bullet

and made an appointment with a different trainer. He and Lexi had me

laughing

all through the session. We clarified my goals and set a schedule of three

times a week.

I attended every session, worked at a moderate pace and never suffered

the

soreness of the original workout again. Sure enough, I began to love the

surge

of energy and satisfaction that came after each session. When the month was

up,

I signed up for three more - then three more months after that. By then I

found

a trainer named Mike Krpan who came right to my house for the same price as

the

gym, and I've stayed with twice-weekly workouts for almost five years. I

realize that not everyone can afford or needs to hire a personal trainer,

but

that's what works for me.

I'm amazed at how much my formerly ignored body has changed. Even

though I

weigh only three pounds less than when I began, weight is no longer an

issue.

Now when I look in a mirror, I purse my lips and smile as I see firm arms

and

shoulders, a slimmer waist, flatter tummy, taut and toned thighs, and

straighter

posture. Best of all, I feel years younger.

I was shopping with Lexi the other day, and I tried on a rather

revealing

dress. " Wow, " she said, " guess I'll have to call you 'Buff Mama!' "

The time and effort it took to train these last few years were one of

the

best investments of my life. Now when I ask my body what it would like me

to

do, it tells me I'm doing just fine. In the place of anger and frustration

is a

new sense of teamwork and partnership, my body and soul.