There’s definitely something to be said for changing one’s training pattern. If you keep doing what you like, your body adapts remarkably well and finds physiological shortcuts to carry you through your routine with minimal effort (and therefore, results). BAD body!

On the other hand, I am a creature of habit, and mixing it up is just not my thing. Making my four salad lunches every Sunday is the only way to ensure I won’t eat expensive, fatty shish taouk all week. Running my 45 treadmill minutes every two days is the only way to ensure I get any exercise.

In order to mix things up in the simplest way possible, I’ve been flirting for the past month with the idea of hiring a personal trainer. Someone who does the thinking for me when I’m out of ideas, someone who knows how to make the most out of every painful expended calorie, every bead of sweat. Yesterday, I finally decided it was time. Tonight, I signed him up. Tomorrow morning at 7 am, we start. Hopefully, six months from now, I finish the half-marathon, having doubled my endurance.

This won’t hurt a bit… I’m counting on it to hurt a lot.

I’ll keep you posted.