Finding out how old my body is

After two years of not having an exercise routine (if you don’t count Rock Band and You’re in the Movies as exercise) I’m finally back in business to torture my body.

I was issued a challenge recently: The California Fitness BodyAge™ Challenge.

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In two months, I will have to reduce my body age as much as possible, in competition with other bloggers, although I don’t know at this point who my competitors are.

I will be given 16 complimentary personal training sessions to help me achieve my fitness goals. Awesomeness!

Before the training started, we had to do a BodyAge™ test and a body composition analysis.

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The BodyAge™ test required me to do some simple exercises such as crunches and stretching, while my heart rate was being measured, to determine my body age.

Let’s just say that I am not going to reveal my body age because it’s embarrassing.

The body composition analysis was quite amazing. It’s this machine I have to stand on while I hold onto the handlebars. And nothing else.

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Eric Goh, my personal trainer, chatted with me while I stood there and before I knew what was happening, he was, like, “Okay, you’re done.”

The amazing part is that, without me having to do anything, the machine calculated everything about me, including what my favourite food is.

Okay, not exactly. What it basically told me was the percentage of water, minerals, muscle and fat in my body.

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And then it told me exactly how strong my arms are. It told me my left arm is stronger than my right arm and my right leg is stronger than my left leg. It told me that my tummy is the weakest of all.

What the…?!

I just cannot comprehend how a machine is able to tell all that by just having me stand there and chat with my personal trainer.

Anyway, training was tough. Eric is a slave driver. He will chat with you while you’re doing the exercises, to keep you distracted so that you lose count and end up doing extra reps.

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He will also push you beyond your endurance.

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What evil thing is he writing about me?!!

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Then again, I suppose PTs are paid to be sadistic, so he was doing a fine job. Haha.

But, seriously. I really enjoyed the session today. We worked on my arms, abs and thighs, resulting in me turning into a quivering mass of jelly.

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After our session ended, Eric gave me homework.


I’m supposed to write down everything I eat and e-mail it to him daily.


Oh, no. He’s going to faint when I submit my first report.

To be continued!

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Post-workout dishevelment.