How I Got in Shape in Only 2 Weeks
"I know you hate me," my trainer, Vando, said with
a grin. It was my first time at Punch Fitness, a boxing gym on New York City's
Upper East Side, and I had just collapsed into a pool of sweat and quaking
muscles after our latest round of burpees. It was actually my first time at any
boxing gym, and it took all of 10 minutes for me to understand just why it's
the workout of choice for some of the best bods in the modelling biz—especially
if they're looking to tone up for, say, the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show: The
interval-style cross-training workouts are hard. So hard that you feel like you
might die from exhaustion, yet you can't help but imagine that one single
session has transformed you into Gigi Hadid because every inch of you can't
hurt that much without instantaneous results, right?
"Give me two weeks," Vando said at the end of that
first session, as if I had uttered that exact train of thought aloud. "Two
weeks, and I can get you in shape."
I should probably mention at this point that I've made it a
rule to avoid these types of workouts for most of my adult life. Low-impact
exercise is way more my speed, and I've kept myself in decent shape through
regular yoga, jogging and the occasional barre class. True story: The only two
times I've done boot camp–style workouts were complete accidents; for both, I
thought I had signed up for Pilates only to realise I was in the wrong room a
few minutes after class began (and it felt rude to leave). I like feeling
meditative during exercise, rather than perpetually out of breath, dizzy, and/or
nauseated. (Though, trust me—I've always had major envy for those who are drawn
toward butt-kicking exercise.)
But I had always been curious about boxing, and whether it
was the catharsis of punching something during a stressful week, the
mind-bending endorphins that hit me in a tidal wave after that first session,
or the appeal of supposedly transforming my body in 14 days—probably all of the
above—I decided to take Vando up on his boastful challenge. We agreed to three
one-on-one, hourlong sessions over the course of two weeks, and just like that,
I signed off on my own body's metamorphosis.
And though it took a lot of sweat (and some tears), it
really was a metamorphosis—and on levels I didn't even predict.
Keep reading to
get a look inside the workout regimen that whipped me into shape in mere days.
The Workout
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Every session was different, but they all had the same
general cross-training kind of routine: We'd do a cardio warm-up and cooldown,
and the bulk of our time in between was spent doing intervals with a variety of
exercises. Some of our "favourites" (a term I'll use very loosely)
included the following:
Jumping:
Would you believe that I would say a silent prayer
of thanks whenever my trainer instructed me to do 10 or 15 burpees? I found
that it was actually among the easier exercises we did, which should give you
an idea of the direction we're headed. Both my trainer and I also learned
quickly that I am terrible at jumping rope, so we often switched to jumping
jacks with weights instead.
Jacob's ladder:
Also known as the bane of my existence. I'm
fairly confident that this ladder-meets-treadmill move is a modern iteration of
a medieval torture device, and it always makes me feel like a hamster on a
wheel. One of my least favorite interval groups was switching between two
minutes on Jacob's ladder and a two-minute run on the treadmill, then back
again. That slightly stupid #fitspo adage that "sweat is fat crying"
had never felt so real.
Leg lifts and other core work:
True story: I overheard Vando
tell a newer trainer that whenever it looks like I'm about to pass out or
vomit, he just puts me on the floor to do ab work—that way, I'm lying down
without really resting (god forbid). The core exercises we did were fairly
basic: lots of straight-leg raises, crunches, planks and sit-ups.
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Boxing:
We didn't box every session, but I was always so
pumped whenever the trainer took the gloves out. Even just learning proper form
and coordination was a huge workout (mentally and physically), as I fought to
remember to keep my hands tucked to my face between punches, to keep my fists
closed and to twist my arms just so for the most effective hits. I fought
one-on-one with the trainer (rather than a bag), and we mostly worked on the
basics—kicking, knees, jabs and one-two combos. As a boxing newb, I appreciated
the one-on-one lessons—and they were just as fun and physically taxing as
everyone had told me they would be.
Weights:
In the spirit of never taking a break, whenever I
got my hands wrapped for my boxing gloves, I was always instructed to lift a
dumbbell with the opposite hand. In fact, I learned that the most efficient way
to strength train is to multitask, whether it's doing squats with a barbell or
jumping on a bench with dumbbells in hand. We usually did 15 to 20 reps for
these kinds of exercises.
So clearly, it was a little bit of everything, incorporating
cardio and strength, often at once. The most important aspect was that I was
expected to go all-out for the entire session, with very little time to
breathe. "You know you're not here to play around," Vando reminded me
whenever I lagged, complained, or had a particularly murderous look on my face.
"You know we go hard here; no bullshit." But I was better for it.
My Diet
We're told time and again by experts that fitness requires
diet and exercise, and I know I wouldn't have seen the same results I did with
this hardcore workout if I hadn't been eating properly—mostly because I was
always starving. I enjoy a clean diet on a regular basis (I'm vegan, just FYI),
so I didn't make any drastic changes to my veggie-centric meals other than upping
my protein intake. I did this with extra servings of tofu and scoops of Nutiva
Vanilla Hemp Protein Powder (£21) in my morning smoothies.
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But other than keeping my meals relatively healthy, I also
didn't really cut anything out. I still drank wine, ate the occasional piece of
chocolate, and ate my body weight in Ethiopian food on one memorable evening.
My strategy was basically to just stay balanced, and it worked.
The Results
Though I felt progressively stronger throughout the two
weeks, our workouts never got easier. In fact, there was a memorable moment
during our last session when I thought I had reached my limit.
After particularly grueling intervals of pull-ups, push-ups
and squats with a barbell, Vando instructed me to finish off our session with a
three-minute sprint on the treadmill. "I—can't," I panted, and he
responded by pressing the speed button even higher. It was at precisely this
point that I almost burst into tears—and suddenly we hit the three-minute mark;
it was over. As I practically collapsed off of the treadmill, Vando took one
look at my crumpled, furious face and howled with laughter. "I made you
cry!" he guffawed, before offering up his shoulder for me to punch as
retribution. (It helped.)
But while I shakily made my way to the subway after that
last session, I realized that I kind of loved that discomfort, as much as I
hated it. In fact, I felt addicted.
The badass-ness of pushing myself to
physical limits I didn't even know I had and of punching, kicking and beating
the crap out of something felt cathartic—and I knew during our workouts that
every agonising burpee was making me stronger.
I have physical proof of these gains. While the number on
the scale actually stayed the same, I lost an inch and a half around my waist
and a half-inch around my butt and thighs, which indicates that I lost fat but
gained lean muscle,
which takes up less space. My arms are more defined than
they've ever been. And abs! I have abs that I can actually see—and a pile of
forgotten crop tops I'd like to dust off.
But as cool as it has been to see how quickly my body can
grow stronger, for me, the most remarkable change has been mental. I couldn't
help but think back to when I was 16 and making BS excuses to get out of my
soccer team's two-mile run, or the fateful kickboxing class I took in college
that left me feeling so uncoordinated that I vowed to never try anything
remotely like it ever again. Even as an avid yogi, I've always avoided Bikram
for fear of feeling too uncomfortable and miserable in the heat. I felt plenty
uncomfortable (and even miserable, at times) during these two weeks. But it's
no coincidence that those circumstances bred better, faster results—something
that doesn't just apply to boxing, or even just getting in shape.
I might like that takeaway even more than my new abs.
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