I should probably start off by saying that I am in no way a professional lifter. In fact, I’m somewhere between a beginner and an intermediate. But hey, that’s not important.
When did I get into lifting? Let’s go back to the beginning:
I was introduced in September by a friend and her boyfriend (who’s going to school to become a person trainer). He decided he would use my friend and I to practice what he learned so far. Willingly, I agreed.
We started with legs, and by the end of the session I couldn’t walk! Literally. I had to lean on my friend’s shoulder and hop around like a fool. I felt pretty accomplished, but I wasn’t ready to start lifting. Mainly because I was intimidated by the male presence in the gym. (Just a side note, the weight room at my school’s gym is a male territory.)
It wasn’t until November when I started getting sick of the elliptical that I ventured to the other side. A.K.A the weight room. With Party in the U.S.A blasting in my ears as my theme song, I headed for the squat rack. I got into position, head straight, barbell on my shoulders and hit a squat. I had done it! But then I left after that because my phone battery died. Pathetic, I know. But hey, I needed more Miley in my ears.
Simply put, that one squat did the trick and I’ve been in the weight room ever since. And I’m not as intimidated, especially when I realized many of the guys there just pace the floor and flex in the mirror. Yes, I am guilty of watching a few times–but I get a good workout in, I promise!
Until next time…