Superheroes in the Making
I am experiencing a transformation. For years, I’ve read celebrity rags or watched entertainment shows on TV and watched with wonder as actresses and models transformed their bodies with the help of a personal trainer. I remember specific examples: Cameron Diaz for Charlie’s Angels (thanks to trainer Teddy Bass), Jennifer Garner for Elektra (body by Valerie Waters) and most recently for their parts in Iron Man 2, Scarlett Johansson for her role as The Black Widow (credit: Bobby Strom) and Gwyneth Paltrow for her role as Pepper Potts (credit: Tracy Anderson). I’ve often wondered if I had the motivation and a trainer’s instruction, could I, too, change not just my weight, but the way my weight sits on this 5-foot 4-inch frame? It is clear from the results I’m now seeing that it is, in fact, possible for me to become my own version of a superhero.
I’ve never been an egotistical person, but I appreciate a good thing when I see it, and I find myself glancing down at my now-toned (but still-a-long-way-to-go) arms and am totally caught off guard when I’m in the shower shaving my legs and see leg muscles I’ve never seen before. As I continue to lose weight, the muscle tone becomes that much more obvious.
I am finding that just when I think I’ve reached a plateau, I’ll have a minor breakthrough that gets me excited and motivated again. Last week, I stepped on the scale and was delighted to have dropped below another threshold. A few days later, I was shopping and fit into a pair of pants that was a size smaller than I’d worn in years and a shirt that I wouldn’t have dreamed about trying on four months ago. Progress! I may never be one of Charlie’s Angels, or handle knives like Elektra, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be ready to don a lycra catsuit should the occasion call for it.
That is Erin’s reality. Mine is this: I have not set foot into the gym since Mike the trainer forced me through an 8 a.m. pool session where he paced up and down the pool deck while I swam laps with a floatation device between my legs until I felt like I might drown. I will admit it was a good workout, but there’s something about someone telling you to crawl across the pool when they are checking their messages on their BlackBerry that feels downright military. But that’s my relationship with Mike. He tells me what to do, I say no, he says yes, and I do it (Mike will tell you otherwise. He will say that I keep saying no and nothing gets done). It’s a time issue. A discipline issue. I watch Erin get thinner and more toned and I think: She does not have to take kids to school. But that’s just an excuse. Tune in next week when Mike has convinced us both to dive deep into The Sports Club/LA’s saltwater lanes for more crawling. The pool is right next to the hot tub, steam room and sauna. I keep telling myself that.
