I am the Biggest Loser...

If you've been paying attention to my e-mails you'll know that Biggest Loser contestant, Roger Shultz, was our Fit for Life guest speaker last Tuesday. We (library director, Amanda Jackson, and I) had dinner with Roger before the program - where he gave us tips on making healthy choices while eating out in a rather firm, direct manner - sent the waiter packing when he came with the lovely basket of fresh yeast rolls - intervened when Amanda attempted to put ketchup on her cheeseburger that had no cheese and only half a bun (don't even ask about the fries!) - demanded his mushrooms be sauteed in balsamic vinegar not butter and essentially scared the crap out of our waiter. But he was really nice and funny.

We came back to the library and Roger was talking to folks as they came into the Lena Martin room, at one point he looks at us and says, "Hey, where's the gym? Let's go for a workout after this!" Well, now how many chances do you get to do that? Amanda had workout clothes in her office in case we went walking on break and I decided I could go to Wal-Mart to get some appropriate attire.

The program ends (it was great!) and I meet Roger and Amanda in front of the city gym dressed in the world's worst workout pants ever (clearance rack $6.00), a horizontal striped shirt with a photo of Bob Harper's head and the slogan "What would Bob do?" on it (literally straight off of Roger's back) and some lime green striped men's athletic knock-off shocks from Wal-Mart! We're all smiling, joking and laughing as we each jump on a treadmill at 3.6 mph. So far, so good. But wait a minute! Roger dismounts his mill and heads off to the weight stacks and when he comes back comedy turns to drama in a heartbeat!

He hands us each a couple of free weights that we press, curl and just hold straight up in the air (all while walking at 3.6 mph) 'cuz this is the easy part. After two minutes we put them down and crank it up to 6.5 mph to run for minute, then back to the two minute rest (using the term loosely) then to 7 mph for a minute. Well, you see the pattern forming. So...after some intervals, I begin to feel my chest close up - I'm supposed to use my inhaler approx. 1/2 hour prior to working out - I hop off the mill only to have the funny, nice Roger scream at me. I explain that I need my inhaler and he says I have 30 seconds to get it and get back. So now I'm throwing stuff out of my gigantic purse, searching for the thing in a near panic! I hear "15 SECONDS!", take a puff, can't hold it in since I'm panting like a dog and hop back on the mill.

At some point, Roger moves me to the stepmill, I'm sure this is because I'm about one interval away from a full blown asthma attack. Frankly, I'm now thinking that wouldn't be too bad, the city gym is used mostly by firefighters and police, so odds are good that there's an EMT in the bunch or at least someone CPR certified. So now I'm climbing away on the stepmill (aka - the stairway to hell), and Amanda is running with a look of fierce determination usually reserved for people lifting cars off of trapped children! At last, thirty minutes is over, I've climbed the equivalent of the Empire State Building, we gingerly step/slide off of our respective torture devices, trying not to to slip in the huge puddles of sweat pooling at our feet. Done, at last, NOT!

Now we're off to weight training and plyometric drills. I've not felt such intensity since giving birth to a ten pound child with no pain medication. I'm reduced to near tears while Roger is screaming "One more!" and I'm whining "I can't!". I have now become one of the people I've seen on the program. The ones that whine and cry and you think "Just suck it up and do one more!".

I squat down to sit on an upended 50 pound weight then spring up, jump and return to the starting position only to hear him yell, "25 more!". I...can't...do...it!!! Roger then says if I don't, Amanda has to. She looks at me with panic in her eyes and says "DO IT! WHAT WOULD BOB DO?". I feel bad and then realize that she is 15 years younger than me, making me old enough to be her ABC Afterschool Special mother. I remain seated. Panic turns to loathing and she says she hates me. We are both reduced to sniveling brats. Roger is still berating us. At some point it becomes easier to do what he says than resist and at least there's a slim chance that he will shut up if we succumb.

Finally it's over! Roger says this is just like a workout people on the ranch get except they go for about three hours. I have a whole new respect for the people on that program. I take Roger back to his hotel and when he goes in I think I may hate him. But he was really nice and funny.