Previously, I discussed how we need to overcome the obstacle of not considering ourselves “gym people,” and particularly stop caring how we look, and how others perceive us working out. You’re not going to fail, or look stupid when you’re getting active.

This, of course, is easier said than done. You may legitimately feel uncomfortable going to a traditional gym. You may not be able to afford it. You may not know where to start. All of these are valid reasons… they just need to stop being excuses.

Here are some of my tips of things you can try. Because being active TRULY is key to a lifestyle change. (now I’m That Guy!)

1. Look for an all-female gym. Healthworks in Boston saved me — it was the ultimate safe space, especially for a woman like myself who is genuinely and massively uncomfortable feeling like a piece of meat in front of men. Gyms like this, often small ones, do exist. Curves isn’t for me, but it is for many people. And if you live in Boston, for God’s sake, it is worth the money: GO TO HEALTHWORKS.
2. Find a gym you will actually go to. Whether it’s the one that is the most expensive, or has a whirlpool, or is never crowded, or is right next to your house — find a gym that you actually like. If you don’t like your gym, you won’t go. If you don’t find a gym you will actually go to, move on down the list and find something else.
3. Find a personal trainer. I found my personal trainer at my gym, but there are tons of PTs that you can find independent of one, who will work with you at their studio, or even outside. Search until you find someone you’re comfortable with — there are PTs with all sorts of backgrounds, body types and focuses. Maybe you find someone who used to be fat. Or a woman. Or someone who will yell at you (because you need that)… or won’t (because you’ve rather have a cheerleader/coach). Working with a PT for an extended period of time will not only help you tone/work on specific areas of your body, but they will teach you how to do all sorts of exercises/weights the RIGHT way, without doing harm to yourself. Eventually, you may feel you can do those exercises by yourself (at the gym) or even at home. Or you will find your PT soulmate and stay with them for life
4. Find stand-alone cardio/dance classes. In L.A., for me, this is Slimmons. I know there are many other cities that have similar dance/aerobics studios, or even local community centers. These are generally ala carte, so cheaper than a gym (only pay when you go), and if you go to something like Zumba, you can really have fun with it – a 45 or 90 minute workout goes by in a flash! In Hollywood, you can even take Bollywood dance classes! Classes are also a gym option — you can join a gym and only go to their classes, avoiding the meat market going on at the cardio machines.
5. Forget about masochistic cardio workouts. You know the girls you see running on the treadmill/on the Stairmaster/elliptical working out at a furious pace for 45 minutes to an hour, seemingly without breaking a sweat? Feel sorry for them. If you want to burn fat — and  not go insane — monotonous cardio workouts are not the best thing for your body. If all you do is short interval bursts on a treadmill (don’t worry about all the other machines — I’ve had several PTs tell me they don’t find them useful) for a half hour, 3-4 times a week, you’re golden. Getting your heart rate into a fat burning range and then letting it spike and fall, spike and fall… does excellent things for burning fat. When I go to the gym, all I do is 30-45 minutes of cardio intervals, on a treadmill, with a good playlist. It’s actually kind of fun.
6. Workout at home. This has never worked for me, personally, but a LOT of people have had success with Wii Fit, Kinect sports, dance video games, even free workouts you can get On Demand from your TV provider (including Exercise TV). Or, go the “old fashioned” route and get a DVD workout, like Sweatin’ to the Oldies
7. Try running. I realize running sounds super daunting, but it doesn’t have to be! And the best part? You can do it outside, by yourself, for FREE. Here’s the thing about running outside: no one is watching you. Even if you’re around other runners, they aren’t analyzing you. It’s a solitary, reflective activity, where you don’t need to feel judged. You don’t have to run far or long. Try short bursts — sprint for 20 seconds, then walk for two minutes. You do this for an hour and you’ve gotten quite a burn.
8. Buy clothes (and other gear) that inspires you to work out. God help me, but there’s nothing like getting a new pair of pants/shirt/shoes/heartrate monitor and wanting to try it out. Then again, in the past I’ve bought a workout outfit to “inspire” me and it went unused for two years. But once I *started* working out (or, at least, was determined to), buying new clothing and gear has definitely been a kick-starter. Whether it’s something you feel “cute” in, or a fancy heart rate monitor with all sorts of fancy stats, find something that makes you want to move.
9. Find music you like to move to. There are just some tunes that we can’t help but move to — music that makes you want to dance. One of the reasons cardio/dance classes are so fun is the music — some sassy, Latin-pop beats in Zumba; gay club music at Slimmons (nothing like working out to Cher!). And running can be made or broken by a good playlist — if the rhythm is wrong (or just not your style), you’re not going to push through and keep running. Go through your favorite uptempo tracks. Check out some of my playlists. But some compilation CDs. Put together a workout playlist — or specific running playlists — and give them a try. I have seriously GONE to the gym, just to try out a new playlist. The power of music.
10. Find a workout buddy. Now, this can be dangerous, especially if you rely on other people too much — if your friend flakes, or you both get busy, next thing you know, you’re not working out at all. But there is something to be said for a support system, and external motivation. Personally, I like to keep appointments, so if I tell a friend I will meet them at the gym, I meet them at the gym. Lately, it’s been finding Slimmons buddies that has motivated me to go. How can you say no when all your friends go three times a week? Find a friend to try that class. Find a friend to run with once a week. Hold each other accountable!

Does anyone have any other tips? What gets you active?

For years, I was That Guy. Yep. The one who would loudly proclaim “I’m not a gym person,” as the reason (ie: excuse) for why I didn’t exercise. It was too expensive, a meat market, I didn’t want to torture myself on a treadmill for an hour, it was too far, I didn’t have a workout buddy. You name an excuse, I used it. To be fair, I had a lovely cheat for someone in their early-to-mid 20s — I lived in a walking city, so I did get in approximately two miles of walking a day.

Still, I was totally kidding myself. For years, I worked on my food — and controlling my eating — but didn’t exercise at all. Like many overweight people, or just people who have body issues and aren’t fit, I flat out rejected the notion of “exercise” and being “sporty.”  I got that it was a good thing and all, but it just wasn’t “me.”

Reality: I was afraid of embarrassing myself. And I was lazy. But let’s focus on the former one.

I think for many of us, being embarrassed by or self-conscious about our bodies leads us to not want to put that body into motion, in public. You see all the fit bodies in gym class and later the gym working out in cute little spandex shorts, sweating daintily as they go up and down on  the Stairmaster, but the not-so-fit person’s reality is much scarier: fat rolls, muffin tops, copious sweat, getting out of breath in 30 seconds, things jiggling. Oh, the jiggling. Aside from kids hitting me in the head with kickballs, I can tell you the #1 reason I hated gym was I was embarrassed to have my hips, thighs and boobs jiggle when I moved vigorously. Also the gym shorts — those GOD AWFUL booty shorts they made all the girls by that automatically produce muffin top & hip fat on anyone above a size six.

Looking back, if only I hadn’t been so ashamed of my body, I might have had the courage to try things. I would have been AMAZING at track & field, but I was too scared to even try. I enjoy dance, but felt flabby and uncoordinated (at the tender age of 8). How many of us have limited our possibilities because we were embarrassed by how we might look, how the athletic gear might fit, how we might fail (or not be able to keep up)?

The biggest step to becoming an active person is to stop caring what people think of you, and what you look like working out. Thankfully, no one is requiring you to wear hideous booty shorts, so you can buy work out clothes in which you do feel comfortable — and covered (and sucked in!).

I overcame all my notions of “not being a gym person,” and trust me, if I can do it, so can you.

What are YOUR obstacles to activity? What are the excuses you use, or used in the past?

Has anyone else reprogrammed the way they feel about activity?

Hark, for I am NOT the only fat girl at the gym!

Last week I declared I had found the Fat Girl Magic Hour at my gym — post-8:30 p.m., to have any hope of a) getting on a machine and b) not be surrounded on all sides by RIDICULOUS beautiful/thin people. Last night, not only did I get a machine  right away, THERE WAS ANOTHER BIG GIRL AT THE GYM.

This is the FIRST TIME since — what? November? — that I’ve gone to my gym and seen a woman (or any person, really) to whom I could relate. It gave me an extra boost of confidence, rocking out on the treadmill with another woman also busting her butt beside me. (this is not to say that all the thin Beautiful People aren’t busting their butts… but they just don’t look quite as sweaty or taxed as I usually do LOL)

SO! Overweight ladies of Hollywood who need a cheap gym and fear the Gym Rats and Beautiful People! L.A. Fitness, Hollywood Blvd, post-8:30 p.m. on week days. SEE YOU THERE XD

Huzzah! I have discovered the Sooper Sekrit MAGIC HOUR at my Hollywood gym — going after 8:30 p.m. Why is this the magic hour? A) there are fewer people and B) I AM NOT THE FATTEST PERSON AT THE GYM.

For those of you unfamiliar with my original Hollywood gym post, it is sad but true: I am usually the fattest person at the gym. I wish I were joking. I suppose it’s the product of going to a gym situated right on Hollywood Blvd — my gym is largely populated by beautiful, fit, thin(ner) people. The other week, I recognized an up and coming actress (though for the life of me can’t remember her name). I also regularly observe supremely fit individuals running on the treadmill at 7, 8, 9 speed for what seems like hours. The result? I feel pretty blah. And I miss my old gym.

This week was different! Yes, 99% of the gym was still beautiful, fit and fabulous. But there were two or three other people who seemed a bit more… normal. There was a middle-aged man or who who were a bit bigger than me, and two women who were probably a bit smaller but, more importantly, weren’t 100% lean muscle! While I’m convinced my gym wouldn’t know an obese person if they walked through the door (which, apparently, they don’t), I am, at least, not the only overweight person there. It made me feel slightly better, as I sweated buckets from doing short running intervals.

The funny thing is, I have a saved, partial draft of a “I hate my gym post.” For now it shall remain unfinished. Fingers crossed this is a turning point, because up until this point, I felt like I was working out in Fat People Hell.

Well, so far Weight Watchers, you have me convinced. I’ve lost 4.2 pounds in two weeks, and coming up on my week three weigh-in, I am optimistic (and my home scale says I’m down at least 3 more pounds, as of this morning). There are a number of reasons for this.

1. I am more serious about the program this time than I was last time
2. In order to kick-start things and not be surrounded by temptation, I’ve been staying in a lot and only eating food at home
3. No major life events or stresses yet
4. Honeymoon period of the diet
5. I went back to the gym

Imagine this L.A.Fitness full of ridiculously thin, beautiful people. And me.

Now, as the title of this post alludes to, I was, in fact, the fattest person at the gym. I’m 5 foot 10 and a size 16/18, so you can imagine this makes me feel rather strange. Yes, I accept that I am fat, because not to would mean pretending I’m “normal” and just getting fatter. But I also acknowledge, that I’m not *that* fat. I have never been the fattest person in the room. Until now.

This produced in me a variety of feeling, including but not limited to embarrassment, shame, paranoia, determination and a bit of smugness. Because you can’t help but feel a little bit smug knowing that a) you have no plastic parts b) you actually eat and c) that your cardio intervals are burning more fat than the tortured 40-minute running session everyone else at the gym is suffering through. But embarrassment and shame won out. I know shouldn’t be embarrassed — if you’re at the gym, trying to better yourself and your health, you have nothing to be ashamed of. But as I felt sweat collecting in my back-fat creases (HATE THOSE) and gazed at a sea of size 0-4s, buff, trim men and women running in unison, I felt paranoid — were the people behind me looking, judging? How stupid did I look sweating from power walking at a steep incline? Also, thank God all these people were so thin, because you could literally feel the floor shaking, bouncing ever so slightly, and a fatter clientele surely would have made this 2nd floor loft of cardio machines collapse. I repeated to myself a manta (inbetween prayers against collapse and reading the subtitles on Top Chef): no shame. But still — God dammit, Hollywood, you make me feel epically enormous.

Look over the Hollywood sign after the climb. The front was too hideous to show XD

Hollywood also makes me feel terribly out of shape. It is a right of passage in Hollywood to hike Runyon Canyon, which is situated just two blocks from my apartment. The view is beautiful! Celebrities do it all the time! Free exercise! People forget the part where it can totally kick your ass and feel like you are going to vomit, pass out and die. I celebrated Martin Luther King Day joining with this Hollywood tradition, along with three of my friends. The good news is, I survived. The bad news is, I thought I was going to fall off the side and tumble into the hills on more than one occasion.  Runyon? Kicked my butt.  My friends and I, the gluttons for punishment that we are, decided to do the “hard trail,” which is all sandy, rocky terrain and many stretches are at a vertical incline. As I huffed and puffed, heaving myself over the wooden plank steps, it was reassuring to see an 8 pound Chihuahua traverse the rocky terrain with greater ease than I. (in all seriousness, why would you take an animal with four inch legs on such a steep trail?) But I made it!

I’m so L.A. now, right? One can only hope so. Going Hollywood feels like my only option — being the “fat man out” is no fun, especially in a place where looks are everything. I have no intention of going plastic, but dammit, I am going to get thin (though I’ll never stop enjoying food).

No one can diet in a vacuum, and help and support from friends and experts is essential. I miss my Boston trainer, Serena, horribly. Thankfully, she, too, is a blogger! Please read her blog The Naked Dish, which gives not only exercise tips, but also talks about healthy eating and cooking. Serena has just started a series on Interval training, which is the thing that has totally turned me around on going to the gym, and may actually turn me into a “gym person.” (and for those who are lucky to be in Boston — Serena is the head trainer at Healthworks Coolidge Corner. Join, and work with her!)

It’s also helpful to know that my friends are on the same journey. A good friend out here is on Jenny Craig, and is my new Runyon buddy. Another, Emily, has done the “beautiful Hollywood” diet, looks amazing, and is running the L.A. marathon in March. Another friend, who shall remain nameless, just joined Weight Watchers last week, and is blogging her journey under a pseudonym at The Right Size. She is witty, an astoundingly talented writer, and I know will be rocking PointsPlus with me.  You can also follow “Alice” (love it) on Twitter.

ALSO — if anyone knows of a normal, sane, good trainer in L.A., let me know. I’ve seen some Barbie doll bitch types and beefcake hotties out here and, sorry, not going to happen. I want to train with someone who doesn’t fat shame, hasn’t been ridiculously thin and beautiful their whole life, isn’t intimidating and feels like a real person. Tall order for L.A.? :/

Happily, there are no situps in my routine... yet

My bank account is HURTING. Why? I’m shelling out over $750 for ten personal training sessions. I think it’s the single most amount of money I have spent on anything that wasn’t a computer.

But, after going to my two complimentary sessions, I realized that I really need guidance from a fitness professional in order to have a hope’s chance in hell of going to the gym on a regular basis, and actually getting a good workout. Namely because I couldn’t remember a damn thing from my first two sessions. And because it turns out I really like my trainer. She is patient, and doesn’t treat me like a fat, out of shape loser. Win/win.

And I am pleased to report that it is not that bad! I’m going at least once a week (schedule permitting), have lost a few inches in important places, and have even come to terms with some nudity in the changing rooms. Other people’s mostly… not mine XD Observations:

Jesus Christ, gym towels are small.

Towel service comes with my membership, but once again my Tall Curse strikes. Nothing more awkward than walking to the shower knowing your ass and vajayjay are hanging out. TALL FAT CHICKS + GYM TOWELS = ACCIDENTAL NEKKID.

I hate planks.

No, really. I hate them.

Intervals are amazing

You know what’s boring? Running on a treadmill for forty minutes. But my trainer is a fan of interval training, wherein you do small bursts of cardio over small periods of time. So instead of running on a treadmill for 8 million years, I’m doing 15-30 second intervals (at high speed/incline) with breaks inbetween. Studies say this is actually the best idea for burning fat, and I am totally on board.

No Boys Allowed

Nothing’s worse than feeling self-conscious when you’re sweating your ass off (literally) and your jiggly bits are showing. Well, no need for this at Healthworks. It’s relatively gym-rat free and there’s something really freeing about not having any men around.

The whirlpool scares me

I’m lame. So. Much. Naked. I also can’t figure out how to turn it on, when it’s not already on.

I think I like the gym… huh. I’ve got four more personal training sessions before my schedule becomes psychotic, and hope to do some group training sessions in the fall (for the sake of my bank account). Exciting!

Yep. I joined a gym. I'm THAT guy.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a “gym person.” Ok, they know this largely because I say it a lot — it’s a perennial favorite among my excuses regarding weight loss. Another favorite? “I can’t afford the gym.”  Last Sunday, in a blindingly bright moment of possible temporary insanity, I decided I was going to join Healthworks. So I did the next day. Let’s not call it an impulsive decision, but rather the results of over five years of consideration.

For those who aren’t native to Boston, Healthworks is a brilliant local innovation: an all-women gym that is bright, friendly and lacking the social pressure that is pretty repugnant at other gyms. Girls of all types go there, and most importantly — the gym rats don’t. I’ve silently been tempted by Healthworks, having lived across the street from it for two years in college, but my thriftyness always got in the way. Then I received a bonus that, I realized, would pretty much pay for a year of the gym. Excuses exhausted and feeling sick of dieting alone no longer cutting it, I bit the bullet.

For signing up, I received two complementary personal training sessions, the first of which was this past Saturday. Um, HOLY MOLY I ACHE. Talk about being out of shape! I also learned that, apparently, my body fat percentage means I’m over weight, and my hip inches are EMBARRASSING. I’ve also lost four pounds in two weeks. Win. Anyway, my bone to pick with body fat percentages and BMI I will save for another post (I am NOT obese, JFC), but here are the highlights from the gym, so far.

Locker rooms: playing (naked) chicken

What is with women whipping off their clothes in the middle of the locker room? Call me a prude, but you will not see me taking off my bra or underwear in a locker room, and stand around with the “puppies” or my vajayjay hanging out. NO. Healthworks provides little changing rooms (like 2 or 3 out of the whole space), which are really dark little closets, which remain teasingly empty. Why? Because no one has the balls to use them. There is this feeling in the air, this tension of “who is the wuss who is going to change in the closet”? If I need to change my underwear or bra? ME.

Aren’t you supposed to wear a bathing suit in there?

Continuing on the naked theme, JESUS CHRIST THERE ARE NAKED PEOPLE IN THE WHIRLPOOL. Seriously. Stark naked women sitting in the whirlpool. Boobs are floating, and it is AWKWARD. Isn’t that unsanitary or something? I just… no. I will be wearing a BATHING SUIT in the whirlpool, and god help me if I am joined by a middle aged (or any aged) naked chick. Just. No.

The elliptical machine is evil

No, really, it is. I think it was trying to kill me.

Do they really expect me to use those sensors?

Who holds the hand bars at the front of the treadmill? You can’t walk at a decent pace, let alone jog or run, and hold on to the heart rate monitors, as it bids you to. And if you’re anything over 5 foot 8, you have to STOOP to hold them. Really? The bikes are a bit better, but it’s like they WANT you to have to buy your own heart rate monitors. Which I just did. For $82. Which leads me to…

Gym shit is EXPENSIVE

$100 on gym clothes, check. $20 sports bra, check. $82 for heart rate monitor that will sync with the gym machines, PAINFUL check. $65 bathing suit (Speedo), check. $81 a month for the gym, CHECK DAMMIT. $70-$1000 plus, OMFG SRSLY?

And these are the observations of my first week of physical fitness. I’m sure the gym will provide many lulz going forward, should I survive my second personal training session.