...Training.
Yes, that’s right, I have a personal trainer. How wicked is that?
Originally I had organised to join a fitness class; 10 weeks, including nutrition and fitness advice, a programme to work to and group work. Sadly, there weren’t enough people interested in the evening class, so it was cancelled, but the trainer offered me 6 hours of personal training as a replacement. One to one personal training is not cheap, and this is bargain basement cost, so I decided to go for it.
I had my first session on Monday, where the PT checked out what I can actually do. He’s pleased with the weight lifting, but (unsurprisingly) wants me to up my cardio rather a lot. Well, from nothing to about 20-30 minutes for this first fortnight.
It’s not so bad when you have someone telling you what to do, how fast to run, when to stop. I’ll see how easy that is when I’m doing it on my own. I need to do the program he’s set me at least 5 times before I next see him. Given that we’re off to visit fiancé’s folks over one of the weekends in between, that’s going to be hard – but not impossible – to fit in.
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