Keep an eye on Carmel Dee’s progress as she tries to get fit with Haddins.
Week One:
Let’s go down my Haddins week one checklist: Back? Bitter. Arms? Whiny. Tummy? Burning. Tush? Hungover. Legs? Lead. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I got hit by a truck. Apparently, I’m out of shape.
Given the ten pounds of Abu Dhabi ‘transition weight’ that has taken up residence on my hips and thighs, it shouldn’t surprise me that a week of real workouts with Mike Haddins and his team of trainers would knock me on my back (literally. I slept for 10 hours straight after my first session). But despite the tender soreness of my oh-so-wobbly muscles, I’m psyched. My body hasn’t felt this awake and alive since I was on the cross country team, and it’s exactly the type of workout I’ve been half-heartedly aiming for at the gym. Something about pounding the pavement outdoors, with a tightknit group of people, gets me working harder (and happier) than any jam-packed gym aerobics session. Plus, I feel like less of a loser when I’m not leaping frantically about to the tune of ‘Sexy Back,’ bounding into buff 65-yr-old women.
I showed up to my first Haddins day with the nerves of a freshman starting high school Phys. Ed. Did I look fat in my workout outfit? What if I was the last one picked for partner games? Was I going to throw up in front of everyone when we ran the mile? Fortunately, my fears were quelled on arrival when I realized the Haddins participants weren’t high school frat-jocks on the hunt for the next nerd victim. Mike, the Haddins Director and Trainer extraordinaire, is a smiley Aussie bloke who looks a bit guilty whenever he orders you to run faster. His team is equally approachable-the business manager Rachael is a down-to-earth chick who’s had her own Haddins success story, having lost 10 kg already. As for Mike’s two trainer assistants, Mark and Marco, let’s just say that M&M are rocking some serious eye candy credentials. I suspect the dynamic-abtastic duo were hired with the sole purpose of sucking in the Abu Dhabi ladies, and spitting them back out as built, workout machines. When your trainer looks like Rambo crossed with Channing Tatum, your motivation to exercise will magically appear! I kid, I kid. M&M are highly trained fitness pros, so within ten minutes of them pushing you, you’ll hate them just as much as you’re supposed to.
The Haddins sessions each go for an hour, but they mix up the activities in such a way that you’ll be oblivious(ish) to how hard you’re working out. Depending on the class, there’s always a lively mix of attendees panting along beside you-young, old, short, tall, fat, waif. I went to the last session and got my a** kicked by an 8 year old girl and a 60 year old man, so that just goes to show you the range of Haddins folk who are fitter than me.
I’m learning about fun little exercise tricks like ‘intervals,’ where you go all out as hard as you can till you think you’re about to keel over on your death bed, and then you get to rest for 30 seconds. This is the sort of game I would never, ever in a thousand years play by myself on a treadmill (I prefer the mulish jog), but is actually quite fun with a group of people. Since everyone’s sprinting and giggling and collapsing together, you stop thinking about the pain. You’re too busy laughing at your outta-shape self.
But the HIGHLIGHT of the Haddins session comes in the ten minutes after it’s over. Hellllllo endorphin high! Despite studiously attending my gym’s cycling classes, I haven’t had this kind of post-workout euphoria since my cross country glory days (oh, lost youth!). The evening after my Haddins workout is bathed in an ‘All-is-right-with-the-world’ glow, complemented quite nicely by a double-extra-large serving of cheesy pasta.
Tune in during the next three months to find out whether Haddins is the cure Carmel needs to shed her pregnancy pounds. Just kidding, I’ve never been pregnant. But I have taken to calling this AD flab my ‘food baby.’
February 17
It’s been two hours since today’s Haddins session ended, and I’m still feeling that post-workout glow. The world just seems like a happier, more manageable place on the days I hit the pavement. It wakes my whole body up from its couch-potato-desk-drone-digestive- munching stupor and reminds me I’m alive.
At the Haddins sessions, my favorite thing to do is play the Stump Mike game. I come up with obscure health related questions, and chuck them at him while donning my best ‘take that smartie pants’ smirk. So far I have yet to win this game. Since he used to train professional cricket/tennis players, Mike’s sort of like the exercise Buddha. He knows all the answers to every random query I’ve ever had while nauseously sprinting towards my health goals. This is a huge change of pace from the gym gorilla trainers I’m used to, whose eyes would nervously twitch towards the nearest exit whenever I approached them after class for a question.
If you’ve got a fitness q you think might stump him, send it my way. I’m determined to win at least one round.
February 20
Today, I realized with a start that the part of my day I most look forward to has become my Haddins workout session. This is a first for me. I’ve never been the type of granola-crunching, weight-pumping girl who goes out bike riding or running ‘for fun.’ I’m more of the ‘Stay home and watch 24 hour Gossip Girl marathon whilst munching pretzels-dipped-in-cream-cheese’ type. In fact, before coming to Abu Dhabi I staunchly refused any and all exercise pressures from my fabulously fit friends. ‘C’mon!’ they’d plead, ‘We’re all going to the kickboxing class, it’s great!’ I’d snort skeptically in their faces, then shuffle off to rummage the cupboards for my roommate’s hidden Cadbury stash.
Alas, this way of life, while feasible in a walk-friendly town like Berkeley, is not possibly in Abu Dhabi, and the pounds crept up on me with all the subtlety of a charging bull. Gym membership tucked halfheartedly into my wallet, I started hitting the treadmill and the aerobics classes with as much zeal as I could muster, until dropping out after three months of agonized boredom.
That’s why I’ve been so surprised about my enthusiasm for the Haddins classes. I’m positively gleeful about them, even when I wake up achy and weary from the session before. There’s something about being outside with a small crew of people and a trainer who’s less ‘freaky steroid drill sergeant’ and more ‘down home Aussie.’ The fresh air filling my lungs, legs pushing against the earth, workout measured by the blood pumping through my veins instead of the mileage number on the machine. I trust Mike to push me to my limit, so I’m able to let go and relax into the workout the way I never can at the gym. I suppose I need that personal touch to keep me motivated. The time flies even when I’m pouring sweat and bent over in a near-death-gasping-for-air crouch. I’m more of fitness buff than I ever gave myself credit for! The Haddins crew’s even got me thinking it’d be fun to start marathon training with them……..but let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh?
‘Nuff said for today. My true love, Haagan Daaz, is waiting patiently for me in the freezer. YUM!
For more details on Haddins, log onto www.haddins.com
