Friday, June 19, 2015

Challenge

Adding insult to injury. Adding fuel to the fire. Basically, making things worse.

Over the past few days-weeks, I’ve been using my new gym membership in Fitness First Trinoma. After years of contemplating to work out, I finally decided to ask my mom permission to actually walk the talk. I knew that it would be a difficult feat trying to convince my mother that I need that gym membership and that I will actually try to go there as regularly as my schedule would permit. After the long discussion and adamantly putting my foot down that I will really work out. So, after the very tiring ER post, I started working out on my own. I received an e-mail about my membership and they included a name of the trainer. I haven’t contacted the trainer but I went to the gym anyhow. That was when I found out that he should have contacted me regarding the schedule – which he didn’t. It was good that there was another trainer that assisted me and helped me work out. Unfortunately, I cannot foresee my rotations in the hospital especially when we rotate weekly. But I do recall pretty clearly that I told him the schedule was on Tuesday. Unfortunately, he said that it was on a Monday and he decided to text me about it but I wasn’t available at that time. Needless to say, it was a really bad start for that instructor-trainee relationship that should be established. I must say, I preferred the first instructor who was not assigned to me. I don’t know if he was just selling himself and convincing me to change the assigned trainer. But at that time, I preferred him over the other one.
So, we finally had the first session – the evaluation. I know for a fact that I am no longer as fit as I was before. Unfortunately, it was slapped on my face. I must admit it was quite demoralizing that I cannot perform the tasks that he was asking me to do. But what was worse was the sense of judgment that I got from him. I know for a fact that he did not bother knowing my background. He did not know that I am a doctor and that I go to the gym after hospital tasks. He also doesn’t know my fitness background prior to meeting me - questions that were already elicited when I applied. He doesn’t have interest and I can’t blame him. He’s one of the more manlier trainers in the gym and I think his body speaks for himself. But the judgment he passed upon the first meeting was quite unforgettable in the domains of my mind. The “you’re such a weakling, a big fatty that I’m going to have to work a miracle for in trying to whip in to shape look” (of course he didn’t say this and it might just be my paranoia) , and the side comment “Ah. So doctor ka pala. O ayan. Syempre ang pag work out mo, mental challenge na yan. Syempre, after mo magduty, tinatamad ka na magwork out. Hindi lang physical ang kalaban mo. Mental pa. Kaya kailangan gusto mo talaga.” I should just let it pass because he is an ignorant buffoon. But I want him to try using his brawns with his brains in order to save lives. I want him to go on duty for 24-36 hours, have no sleep and tell me that not going to the gym is being LAZY as compared to being TIRED. Iba ang tamad sa pagod. And he opted to use “tinatamad”. I must say that I’m okay with his bluntness. But I suppose he does not have tact. So, I wasn’t able to perform his exercises with ease. That’s the truth. But what he did. Let me just finish the whole hour and leave me there is something I don’t think he should do. Leaving a client alone and chit chatting with other gym members seem to be unfair to someone who’s paying quite a large amount. Not to mention, it was just an hour’s worth of shit. Maybe he could have helped me stretch out the cramps instead. But nope. He was charming some lady gym member. He ended the session by telling me, “sige, sa Tuesday na lang kung kaya mo. Kung hindi sumakit katawan mo. Pero sigurado sasakit yan.” I don’t know if his goal is to drive me away from the gym but I won’t pay a huge amount just to waste it. From then on, I was already contemplating on getting a different trainer. My goal might be to have the body type that the “master trainer” has. His body was so lean and fit – the contour of his body can readily be recognized despite having his shirt on. I can see my goal but I cannot reach it with him because I don’t feel motivated. I don’t see results. I just see the bullshit I have to endure. It’s bad enough you get the shit out of the hospital stays and duties. I don’t want to endure that shit when I’m out of the hospital. Then, I scheduled the next session, had to postpone, and made an error on rescheduling and he was not that polite in replying. Thus, today, I’m leaving the hospital a little earlier – that’s unofficial. I’m basically sneaking out of the hospital just to go to the gym. I don’t know if I’m crazy for doing that but I’m going to do that now. And if I get another bout off attitude from him, I will definitely put him out of my life and request for another trainer.

I know it was on my own doing that I’ve obtained this body type – that I’ve allowed myself to be this big. So, I suppose I cannot blame that personal trainer for giving me a smug look. I can’t blame him for being a douche bag because that’s simply how he is. I can’t blame him for that as much as he can’t blame me for being a fat ass. The difference though is that I’m actually there in the gym for the reason that I’m actually trying to do something about it. As for his personality, well that’s his discretion if he wants to continue being a douche bag. But one thing is pretty consistent with my personality. I don’t like forcing myself to something or someone. Well, except for the occasional goals in life that I’m willing to fight tooth and nail for or a best friend that I’m not willing to lose. But for a gym trainer that is ill-mannered, I don’t really give a damn. He’s easily replaceable in as much as I’m a client that does not matter.


Monday, June 15, 2015

Falling

It's been no secret that I've been struggling with losing weight. I have a hard time dieting because I'm a stress eater. I've been enduring all these snarky comments regarding my size and I've endured enough from my patients over the past few years. But what really gets to me is the difficulty in moving about as compared to how it was before I gained all this weight. That tops the fact that I'm having difficulty in purchasing clothes and it kills me not to be able to wear what I want. I wish not to think of it that way but I believe that a lot of girls have labelled me unattractive as well because of my size.

But the one thing that really got to me was when the chair collapsed on me. I know that the chair was broken. But damn. That fall... really hurt.

To me, that's the last straw. I really want to lose weight. I have to lose weight. I will lose weight.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Resuscitation

Flatline.

At some point, we'll have something inside of us die. It may be a personality, a habit, or a part of our soul that we've swept aside for the time being only to realize that we've completely neglected about it. To me, that's my writing.

If you know me well enough, you'd immediately associate my name with my craft. I mean not to decorate myself but I am the two-year editor-in-chief of the UST Nursing Journal and I've been part of the campus journals of my alma maters. It's just unfortunate that I had to feel the recoil of my intense burn out after that two year term. It was painful to feel disgusted with writing - something that allowed me to breathe life into my system. Even my means of expression was halted because of the things that I went through. But now, that was years ago. Time has healed the wounds and I no longer abhor writing. I actually miss it. I long for it.

Short or long. It doesn't matter. Whatever topic it's about. I'm just going to write simply because I miss it. Simply because I need to reignite the burnt out passion that was once within me. I need to resuscitate him.