“Four weeks, five people, one trainer, private room, new you.” I had yet to see the workout program that put me in shape in four weeks. Nothing had ever beaten my rather large behind into submission yet, buts sports editor Josh Purse, photographer Shira Weissman and myself – competing against two WPGU girls – were going to find out if the Mettler Center Challenge actually did live up to its name.

We first went through a physical assessment, checking our body-fat, weight, stamina, flexibility and how many push-ups we could do. I managed a grand total of two push-ups. We were introduced to our trainer, Aaron, and were told to go to the Mettler Center training sessions on Mondays and Thursdays. We were also told to come in as often as possible on our own time for extra exercise in between sessions.

Week one

We were led into a private training room in the back and given folders containing a diet plan called the Mettler Transformation Diet, information about other Mettler classes and a list of exercises we needed to do at home. After a quick warm-up, we were led through a series of exercises including crunches, bar jumps, push ups that I groaned my way through and some stretches that included sticking my knee into Shira’s back to end it all. And despite my previous expectations, Aaron was no Nazi general, but more of a gentle, you WILL do this, you CAN do this, just do eight more, kind of trainer.

The second session was slightly better in spite of some incredibly sore muscles. Having not worked out in a year, my muscles were rebellious. However, Aaron would have none of it. We did push-ups AGAIN and the foolishly-named burpees, which consisted of getting on the floor on your hands and toes, pushing out your toes while balancing on your hands and then jumping back toward your hands and back up fast.

It was another night of truly exhausted slumber.

Weeks two and three

Having not gone in all weekend, I thought it was judgment day. But Aaron decided to introduce wall sits – semi-squatting against a wall, with nothing but your legs for support with your back flat against the wall for 30 to 45 seconds. My knees were involuntarily shaking by the 15th second. Then there were the planes, which involve lying on just your fists and toes with the rest of your body suspended for as long as you can. I was not the only one shaking this time.

And then I was introduced to Bonnie. Needing to make up a missed session, I scheduled with her. And I discovered what happens when you have a trainer with a completely different style. Bonnie, while still not a boot camp sergeant, was not allowing any breaks in the middle of a set. It was “jump rope, 60 seconds,” “keep pushing that weight up! You can do it! Good! Just another 30 seconds to go!” (I had to switch to a lighter set of weights after this one) and “just 20 more jumping jacks!” (after 20 already!).

Yes, it was more of “I went home and did homework and went to straight to bed that night.” But by the end of the third week, I started noticing some very surprising things. I was definitely not oversleeping anymore. I was getting more done during the day. And I was definitely not tired all the time anymore. Was the challenge really working? It was time to take the jeans test. Did my old jeans fit?

They did. It was a day for celebration.

Week four

Having made us fitter than before didn’t mean Bonnie and Aaron were going to keep sessions the same. They got harder. We started doing interval training, which was running as fast as we can on a treadmill, then going faster and then going back to the previous level. That had me feeling raw and very glad to be going back into our room. But there was no let-up. Wall sits. Planes. Weights. Crunches. Bar jumps. Jumping rope. Cardio. Running. It was all there, in little intense packets that came right after one another.

And at the end of it all, we found ourselves challenged all right. Nine sessions, four weeks, five people, two trainers and a private room later, my new me could not only do 20 push-ups and still keep going, but also wake up for my classes and fit into the old jeans.