Health editor turned ‘Miss Fit:’ Getting out of the ’skinny’ state of mind

SDNN’s health and wellness editor, Jennifer Reed, is on a journey toward a better body.  For the next month, she will join Fitness Quest 10 trainer Anna Renderer and a group of “Miss Fit’s” in a women’s boot camp program, journaling her success along the way.  Four weeks.  Three days a week.  Bright and early.

Day One:  November 23, 2009

It was 5:30 a.m. and I was working out.

There are only two things wrong with that picture.

One, it was 5:30 in the morning.

I’m a sleeper.  I know what you’re thinking.  At 5:30 a.m., everyone’s a sleeper.  But I’m a real sleeper.  A good night’s rest for me is 12 hours.  I wasn’t even aware that life existed at 5:30 a.m., and on my drive to Scripps Ranch to attend my first Miss Fit Boot Camp meeting, I was utterly appalled at the number of cars on the road.

On to the second matter.  I was working out.

Physical activity has never really been my thing.  Fortunately, I never needed it to be because I just so happened to be blessed with a high metabolism.  Carbs and I have been tight for a long time.  Me and the treadmill?  Not so much.

I guess it all started about three months ago.  As I was getting dressed one morning, I buttoned my jeans and realized that I didn’t need to wear a belt.  Hmmm. I always wore a belt.  This particular pair was one size too big, and though they were perfect in length and hugged my thighs just right, I had always needed something to keep them secured around my waist.  I shrugged it off.  It wasn’t like they didn’t fit.  They just fit better.  Besides, some hips wouldn’t kill me.

I was always slow to develop growing up.  I was tiny in high school-literally.  Short, slight and small.  I was mortified for years because of my flat chest.  I was terribly shy.  Luckily, most of those issues worked themselves out (though people still place my age, 24, somewhere in the 18-20 range) and the ones that didn’t, like the dreaded muffin top or freshman 15, I was thankful for.

I should have known my time was coming.  Only weeks after the belt incident, I pulled a pair of skinny jeans out of my closet.  Skinny jeans from New York City that I bought with my mother when we visited last fall.  As unbearably hot as it was in San Diego this summer, it was easily months since I last wore them.

I slipped the pants up my calves, over my knees and then, suddenly, the sliding stopped mid-thigh.  Just… stopped.  I tried to convince myself that they must have shrunk in the dryer and tried to shimmy my way in.  I couldn’t believe it.  For the life of me, I could not get those jeans over my butt.  Or even up to my butt.  I knew that this had happened to most women before, but it was truly a first for me.

It suddenly dawned on me that perhaps natural thinness only held out for so long, and if I wanted to keep my figure, I’d have to start putting some work in.  I also realized in that moment that “skinny” did not equal healthy.  I was incredibly out of shape.

I tried to kid myself with a gym membership a year ago, but ended up wasting $50 to swim a couple laps and sit in the sauna once a month.  I had dabbled in yoga, too, which I really liked, but after relocating to a new city, it was a luxury I could no longer afford.

Now, however, buying several new pairs of pants was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

I looked at myself in the mirror.  I didn’t feel all that different, but I started to look it.  My belly was a little flabbier.  I experienced occasional muffin top.  And let’s just say that when I flexed, I swore I saw some cellulite.  Right where you really don’t want it.

I was going to do something about this.

This morning, I did.  And let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.

I arrived at the Miss Fit Boot Camp right on time, a few minutes before 5:30.  It was still dark and cold outside.  I yearned for my bed.

And then I met the energy train-a bubbly, energetic young trainer named Anna, whom I was afraid of and equally grateful for.  This woman was going to torture me… but without her, I might not have the motivation to do it.

As a warm-up, Anna led us in a single lap around the park.  This is easy, I thought, and wondered to myself why we were all jogging so slowly.  About halfway through the lap, I could hear my own breath.  Okay, so this is actually kind of hard.

By the time we looped around, I wasn’t too far from winded.  From a single lap.  One little lap around the park.  I was completely prepared to sit down, drink some water and have some sort of orientation or chat about nutrition, but it didn’t happen.

Next we hit the pavement.

Anna lined us up and threw drills at us.  Butt kicks, hopping, skipping, the grapevine, sidesteps.  It was child’s play, really, but I could feel my heart in my throat.

Then it was the hill.

We walked along the sidewalk as a group to the main road.  We were to run-run-up the hill, to the stoplight.  I didn’t even see a stoplight.  I was praying Anna misspoke and really meant streetlight.  It still hurt to take deep breaths of the chilled air and I wasn’t ready, but before I knew it, 19 women took off running ahead of me.  I followed.

After only a minute or two, I felt as if my lungs might burst.  I began to walk, wondering if I was going to pass out or maybe just cough up some blood.  Anna, you win, I thought.  This is killing me.

Like the slow, uncoordinated and athletically-challenged girl I was in high school, I was the last to the finish line.  Unlike the girl I was in high school, however, I didn’t care.  I have an apartment, a job and a boyfriend now, I thought.  I don’t need to be good at this.

The best part was, I really didn’t.  No one was going to judge me.  As the other girls passed me on their way down, I heard one say to another, “I was so there last month.”  Another woman cheered me on.  “Good job, you’re almost there!”  And at the top was Anna, urging me to the finish line and congratulating me on a time I can look forward to beating in the next few weeks.

“Good job today, rookie!” Anna called out after backward lunges, bicep curls and bicycle crunches.  We were done, for today at least.  I smiled.  Despite the pain and suffering, despite the fact that my legs were quaking and my throat felt frozen with icy breath, despite that I was still awake at this ungodly hour, I really felt good.

Jennifer Reed is SDNN’s health and wellness editor.  She can be reached at jennifer.reed(at)sdnn.com.

Tags: "Miss Fit" Boot Camp, Anna Renderer, Boot Camp, exercise, fitness, Fitness Quest 10, Jennifer Reed, metabolism, SDNN

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