4.3.11 - Sunday
Wednesday morning, Lara, the head honcho from the NYC Beachbody office came to talk about our 30-day results, important upcoming dates, potential prizes and to give us a pep talk as we head into the remaining few weeks of our booty-lifting experiment. By the way, we had our 30-day photoshoot last week, which was my 3rd time in my ever-so-flattering Target bikini. Tomorrow we'll be getting a printout of our 1st and 30-day photos; A way to keep us motivated during the final phase of our transformation. I'm actually looking forward to seeing my photos. I can look in the mirror and see that I've changed, but having a photo will certainly help me push harder when I'm feeling beat. And no, I will not be posting said picture...until the end. Sorry people, I'm just not ready for you to see what lies beneath the spandex just yet.
The first thing Lara discusses are important dates. We learn that our last workout will be Wednesday, April 27. This is one day earlier than the date on the calendars we were given on our first day. I am immediately in panic mode. I am in no way ready for this to end and now I have to face the reality that it's almost over.
But the upside is, for the last week and half, our class will be an hour and half instead of an hour. At least we get to go out with a an exhausting bang. So we lose one day, but get eight 90-minute classes. Pretty good consolation prize in my book. She also tells us that for the last week of class, we may elect to go back on the "6-day Supermodel Slimdown" diet that we were on during our first six days of class. Hmm, let me see, 90-minute workouts for eight days and a daily food restriction of 1000 calories worth of bland "green and whites"... NO THANKS! As it is now, we only get about 1200 calories a day; I'll need the extra 200-300 calories to have energy for those longer workouts and still survive the rest of my day after class. I understand that some people will want to lose as much as possible for the purposes of being chosen for an infomercial, but I need the extra fuel and I believe that sticking with my current diet is the healthier choice. There is no finish line for me so I don't care if I'm not svelte enough for the infomercial. I understood from the beginning that I might not be chosen to appear on-camera.
Lara also told us about potential prizes that will be awarded to the biggest losers, or in some cases, gainers...of a butt that is. It's all vague but exciting. She says there might be a jean shopping spree, a trip to Miami, cash prizes, Beachbody products etc. But then she dangles the golden carrot. The prize I really, really want: ONE MORE MONTH WITH LEANDRO! Oh please pick me, please please please pick me! It's not a definite but if this were to happen, the winner would get one more month of training and food delivery. The only difference would be that we would go to Leandro's private studio instead of the gym. His studio is very small so I can't imagine that he'll choose more than 5 girls for this. Leandro says that he would pick people that have worked very hard and followed the diet, but still have body fat to lose (ME!). This is music to my ears! It would be perfect for me; I will definitely still have fat pounds to lose when the program ends on April 27. If I had another month, I could continue to work those pounds off, but also gradually integrate my old life and new lifestyle. Meaning, I would still follow the diet plan and continue to eat the meals, but I could eat out on a Saturday night, maybe have a glass of wine, but enjoy in moderation and slowly be reintroduced to "normal life", rather than just being tossed out into the streets on April 27th. Left to my own devices. No Leandro to pat my saddle bags and tell me to push harder. No Jessica high-fiving me after my perfect squats. No Monica making me delicious meals, seven days a week. I am honestly terrified at the thought of this ending so abruptly. Terrified. The extra four weeks would be a great ease-in month. Not to mention the continued progress I would make on my body's transformation from flab to fab!
When Lara asks for a show of hands from those of us interested in the third month, EVERY girl in the room raised their hand. What kills me is, Leandro clearly said he'd pick the people that still needed to lose weight. Some of these girls didn't have weightloss needs to begin with - they just had flat or droopy butts! Yet, every hand flew into the air. I heard one girl (spazzy dancer girl) saying that she really needs the extra time to get down to her goal weight. SHE STARTED THE PROGRAM ALREADY FIT! Her belly is flat. Thanks to the last 37 days with Leandro, her butt looks great. I wanted to strangle her and tell her to be happy with her awesome body, thank Leandro for her newly awesome ass and move the hell on so my 22" thighs can work with The Butt Master for four more weeks! I later found out that she also goes to his 2-hour class two nights a week. I think that's overkill, but she's 12 years younger than I am, has no family to care for and can nap during the day, so who am I to judge if she wants to compulsively exercise all day? My maternal side feels concerned for her outrageously distorted self-image. Bless her heart, maybe she's got Body Dysmorphic Disorder.
My competitive side just wants to punch her in her perfect face. Because she's in her early 20s, she has no idea how much harder it will be to get in shape when she's at my advanced age! Just give this to me and go and live your life in your perfect body with your perfect porcelain skin and your flat, stretch-mark-free belly! Self-image is totally subjective I suppose. I'd love to look like spazzy dancer girl. Someone else in my class might love to look like me. Someone with low standards that is...
So, while I hope that I'll be one of the lucky few chosen for the extra month, I will proceed as if my last day is April 27. That's exactly three and half weeks from tomorrow. I've got 25 days to come to a place of peaceful acceptance about the end of this experiment, and the beginning of a life lived healthier and happier. And it scares the hell out of me.