wow, people. the past half-hour or so has taught me why people hate working out. jesus! it sucks!
Basically, rather than feeling all "wow, I did such a good thing for my body, now this "mini-beer-belly" style thing I have going on will go away, plus I will gain muscle so as to be less scrawny!"
its more like "wow, this is hard. and this weight-lift-machine thing my parents bought, despite seeming to work really well for them, is really confusing."
Basically the feelings I was getting in various joints and tendons were not ones that I have felt before, which I feel I should not feel again. I am going to have to overcome my foolish pride and ask my mom to show me how to do this stuff. Also, the weights are not labeled with numbers which have any relation to the weight they contain. Also, the little illustrations explaining how to use it was essentially worthless.
I will also have to, bizarrely, tell her that she is not allowed to encourage me in any way. For some reason, approval from my parents when I am doing something good for myself (working out, trying to eat more healthily, etc) makes me want to stop doing this thing. This has led to a lot of problems. It's weird, because normally approval from my parents has an embarrassingly large effect on me.