Melanie Anderson

My mind is constantly racing. I am 100% Type A personality so that's a given, but at any given moment throughout my day I am thinking about what I wish was different about the way I look or comparing myself to the poor soul who happens to be next to me, in front of me or passing by me. My eyes pick apart just about every female within eyesight - does she workout, what is her body fat percentage, does she lift weights everyday, how much cardio does she do, what does she eat, does she eat carbs...I could go on and on. The thoughts and questions that consume me are those of exercise, diet and food and body image. Granted I make time to interrupt these thoughts with my 'to-do' lists and 'things to buy' lists but I am completely and utterly obsessed with how I look. Now that sounds vein, and to some, it might be just that. But my obsession with diet and exercise go no further than making me, myself and I happy. I have no interest in meeting someone else's standards or being good enough or just what someone else wants or desires...if that happens to be the case once I have accomplished what I desire...than so be it. But in the mean time, I am working on making me happy. As my first trainer so eloquently stated, 'I want to like what I look like naked.'

When I stared this, what I am going to call 'journey', over 2 years ago, I was an average gym-goer. I would workout a few times a week...mainly cardio and a little strength training that consisted of whatever random exercises I had taught myself or picked up from watching (and judging) those around me at the gym. She looks good...I'll do what she's doing. I didn't really enjoy working out, but I did it to try to get the skinny bod I had always wanted. Skinny...I wanted to be skinny. So, I worked out, ate a vegetarian, low calorie diet and that was about the extent of my efforts.

Fast forward...here I was, broken hearted after what I thought was a life-ending-worthy breakup, I started playing with the idea of hiring a personal trainer. It was time to do something for ME. I was ready to do something for myself...it was time to stop drowning myself with Pinot Noir, Taylor Swift, Facebook-stalking my ex and sobbing myself to sleep every night. So, doing what any other newly single and ready to mingle female would do, I sought out the sexiest trainer at the gym I could find. Kept my eye on him for a few weeks and watched how he trained other clients. Tall, dark and handsome? Well, taller than me, buzzed