23%
At Christmas, we're heading up to the Great Barrier Reef. However, we've dedicated half of 2006 to sitting on the sofa stuffing ourselves with Twisties, chocolate and ice-cream purchased late at night from the 7-11 that lurks perilously close to where we live. Thus our bodies are currently not in the Beach God category. In order to remedy the situation we've taken drastic measures - and joined the local gym.
I'm sure I've read other bloggers talking about getting their body fat down below 10%. The relentlessly cheery gym guy measured my fat content yesterday, and it came out at 23%. That's 23g per 100g. He didn't say how much of that saturates. If I was in a wrapper on the supermarket shelf, you'd put me back as soon as you read the label.
So today, off we went to start the programme which Cheery Guy had given us. Gyms are like another planet to me. I did join one once before, but only went three times in the whole six months. Luckily, this one has practically zero members, so there's no fighting with enormous steroid-crazed monsters to get to the machines.
I couldn't keep up with the right speeds on the cardio machines. Nor could I complete the reqired number of 'reps' (hey, I know the lingo) on the bizarre contraptions designed to torture my pecs, biceps and triceps (whatever they are). Even though I was using lower weights than I was supposed to.
Meanwhile, Cheery Guy has put us on a diet of five small meals a day - with a palmful of protein and a fistful of carbohydrate. (Clint Eastwood, eat your heart out - well, a small portion of it anyway.) We cheated today and snuck some cheese into our wholemeal sandwiches.
Oh well. Rome wasn't built in a day. And nor was this stomach.
I'm sure I've read other bloggers talking about getting their body fat down below 10%. The relentlessly cheery gym guy measured my fat content yesterday, and it came out at 23%. That's 23g per 100g. He didn't say how much of that saturates. If I was in a wrapper on the supermarket shelf, you'd put me back as soon as you read the label.
So today, off we went to start the programme which Cheery Guy had given us. Gyms are like another planet to me. I did join one once before, but only went three times in the whole six months. Luckily, this one has practically zero members, so there's no fighting with enormous steroid-crazed monsters to get to the machines.
I couldn't keep up with the right speeds on the cardio machines. Nor could I complete the reqired number of 'reps' (hey, I know the lingo) on the bizarre contraptions designed to torture my pecs, biceps and triceps (whatever they are). Even though I was using lower weights than I was supposed to.
Meanwhile, Cheery Guy has put us on a diet of five small meals a day - with a palmful of protein and a fistful of carbohydrate. (Clint Eastwood, eat your heart out - well, a small portion of it anyway.) We cheated today and snuck some cheese into our wholemeal sandwiches.
Oh well. Rome wasn't built in a day. And nor was this stomach.
posted by Dan in Melbourne at 5:20 pm
2 Comments:
you'll have that body fat percentage down in no time... s'long as you stay away from the sweets, the antipasti, and the booze.
i've been stuck on 8 per cent for the last four weeks but that's cos i indulge too much on the latter.
good luck with the fitness quest.
You just have to hang in there. I'm still not at 10%...more like 13%. But just remember the more fat, the more of you there is to love...or if get stranded on an island..you will outlive all those skinny people with six packs.
Post a Comment
<< Home