Suck It Up, It's Crunch Time

Vol. 11 , No. 38 , May 21, 2008
by Jen Gubler
Editor’s note: This is the fourth in a series of articles by staff writer Jen Gubler as she documents her experiences as a contestant in the Mrs. Utah pageant. Watch for the next chapter in this series in the weeks to come.

“Faster,” the voice said. “Go faster. Get your heart rate up.” I peddled and panted, my arms swinging back and forth wildly in tune with my legs.My body felt out of control, as if my legs were pushing my arms and I couldn’t stop myself from the movement. I expected the numbers on the monitor to jump at lightening speed, showing a high heart rate and a hundred calories burned. I glanced down and saw a big zero where I expected to see one hundred. My efforts felt futile and my head was spinning with thoughts of failure. I dropped my head in shame. My self-pity lasted mere moments as I was commanded to begin a set of lunges across the floor. “Give me 10,” the voice instructed.Step, lunge, return. One. Step, lunge, return. Two. I painfully made it to 10 when the voice said, “Give me another set of 10.” “Ten means 10!” I wanted to yell. “When did 10 turn into 20?”I lunged and squatted, heaving the heavy weights with me as I went. Those 3-pound weights felt more like 30. I lifted, curled and pushed heavier weights until my arms felt useless.I dropped onto the weight bench with a grunt and didn’t move, too tired to care who saw me like this. “I was going easy on you,” the voice said.I lay there hoping it was all a bad dream; my subconscious reliving my old military days. Nightmares of a past drill instructor yelling “Drop and give me 50!” Myself so young and scared of what would happen to me if I ever stopped in the middle of a 2-mile run. Was this my mind’s way of remembering the terror I had faced almost 10 years ago as I bravely faced that team of sergeants requiring more than I thought I could give? I still clearly remembered the pain and agony of waking before dawn to the sound of Staff Sgt. Nunez yelling “faster you lazy pigs!” You couldn’t hide, but you could run. You had to run, around and around a track until your legs were numb. And when Staff Sgt. Nunez was bored, you ran through a forest filled with yellow spiders bigger than your fist with a pack that weighed more than you did in the sweltering San Antonio heat. The burning in my thighs told me this was no dream, it wasn’t boot camp either. It was my appointed pageant trainer.I sat up enough to see her staring down at me. For a brief moment I thought of firing her. I didn’t need this! I had children to chase around my house that definitely counts as enough exercise. But thoughts of walking on a brightly lit stage in front of hundreds of people in a bright pink swim suit filled my head.I begrudgingly allowed her to help me up and quickly forgot that I was supposed to be angry with my sergeant, I mean, trainer. I retreated out of the gym, passing a younger group of girls who eyed my sweat pants and XL Army tee shirt with disgust. I smiled at their designer work-out clothes, perfectly placed pony-tail and overly-done make-up. “Wait until you have a baby,” I thought to myself with a sense of satisfaction as I escaped.Then my worst fear’s became reality when I heard, “It’s time for our 3-mile run!”Trainer’s Note: Because of the short time frame we were facing, I decided to start Jen off with an aerobic warm-up, followed by a weight routine to tone and tighten her trouble spots. I could see about two minutes into the warm-up she was not quite grasping the concept of an elevated heart rate. As she strolled leisurely on the elliptical machine, she was very animated chatting about getting ready for the pageant and her son’s soccer league. I interrupted her amusing anecdote and asked her if she could feel her pulse increasing. She giggled and replied no. When I stepped onto the elliptical next to her and told her to keep pace with me, a determined look came over her face. The chit chat stopped and a small groan escaped from her lips.I would like to thank my sponsors: Intermountain Women’s Health SpecialistsMassage Envy • St. George Musical TheaterHot Shot Images • Hurricane Chevron, Hurricane Wendys • Stout Home FurnishingsRuby’s Inn • K&M Drywall • Tan-AciousDraper Ramada Limited • GR8PRICES.com Clay Egan Racing • Classic Sports Hurricane Valley Journal • Cedar City Review.