From the “Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time” File…

7 06 2010

Friday night saw me at the gym… I’m not gonna lie, it’s been 100% easier to be lazy on the sofa than to go for a 30 minute treadmill walk*. Plus, I had a meeting established with The Trainer, so I was obligated to go.
Dealing with some residual back pain**, The Trainer and I agreed to work on arms. And work we did. I even cranked up the weight on some exercises. By the time we were on our last exercise (weight assisted tricep dips) I insisted on finishing a set at a heavier weight. “Everything I do with endurance and ‘working though it’ is practice, I can do it and I will do it.” I may have scared my trainer.
100 oz of water into the night and I was ready for bed.

Saturday morning saw me up at 730 because TBD decided to stick his/her arm/foot into my ribs. FOR HOURS.
So I watched 3 hours of “Flip this House”.
After lunch, I steam cleaned the carpet in the front room*** and set to prepping TBDs room for paint.
People, I can not tout the wonders of a 2-to-1 vinegar water mix for removing wallpaper and backing.
Slight arm pain and regret start to set in.

Sunday morning we were scheduled to go “picking” with a cousin-in-law, however, the weather was not cooperating, so we ended up wandering the indoor stalls.
I ended up with nothing.
Back home, we finished patching and decided that the “right way” to paint the room would be to remove the moulding. And said  mouldng would probably be removed when the carpet was installed anyway, so we weren’t upset. Well, until we got the part where we couldn’t remove a piece because it was bumped against another piece which required removal starting at the opposite end of the room and necessitated the removal of the moulding around the doorframe.
The good news is that next week we only have to take out the bed and a dresser because EVERYTHING else is already cluttering up my office.
Patching , sanding, vacuuming and rewashing of the walls is done, painting to commence Tuesday.

Today, I can’t put my arms down.

How was your weekend?

* I posted a status update on Evil Facebook stating that I need to stop talking myself out of going to the gym (or whatever makes sense to say that I need to go back, ‘ever) and of course, I got the obligatory, “OMG, you don’t have to worry about your figure right now!” post… thing is, I never said I was worried about my figure. In fact, I’m the opposite of worried- I know that being fit will make the squishy-watermelon-out-of-a-stretchy-lemon less traumatic. And it’s about not being a lazy schmuck, eating Cool Whip from the tub on the sofa.
**It’s fine now. Yes I called the doctor.
*** Hopefully for the last time (for that rug), our carpet gets installed on the 15th!

Trying to Shake it Off

11 05 2010

If you didn’t know yet, I am taking yoga once a week.
Yoga’s always been good to me and I felt like I needed to mix up my fitness routine.

I guess the stresses of the past week* took its toll more than I expected… it was IMPOSSIBLE to unwind at class.
Typically, I get in the zone and am so focused that whatever was on my mind is replaced by keeping my shoulders down/staying aligned/not tipping over.
Not last night.
Holy crap, I was teetering all  over the place, using my shoulders as earrings and I was late to class.
Even during the apres workout relaxation my mind was a freight train; as it continued through the entire night, pretty much stopping between the hours of 430am and 630am.

I hate the feeling of not being able to “let go”.
During relaxation, I was going over things in my head… “The day is done, let it go.”, “You can not solve that problem until tomorrow.”, “Focus on your breathing” and the like.
No dice.
Plus, all this pent-up whateveritis isn’t doing my physce any favors.

Please to note: I can’t take long hot baths or drink or go on a rampage with a weapon. Well, technically, I guess I could, it’s just ill-advised.

*Friday: Trip to Erie with Annoyance, which takes a lot of energy to “be good”. Then when I took a nap, I got bit by a spider.
Saturday: Family party with legions of rude children** and overly-nosy/rude questions (“are you excited?”, “What do you mean you’re not having a theme for the room?”, “Just wait until…”, very unwelcome attempts at bump contact…) and a lot of energy to be good.
Sunday: Additional family interactivity including more “Just wait until…” Not to mention I had a severe bout of I-don’t-feel-good-itis and a hell of a lot of room-making-stretching-pain. Oh, and I’m onto the cousin who told their kid to touch my belly as much as possible and I do not like it. Oh and the expelled energy to “be good”.
Monday: Catch up all day from work I couldn’t do on Friday.

**The room (it was Steve’s cousin’s communion) was crowded (due to the extreme weather, we were all smooshed inside) and I was trapped between the end of a 8-foot table and an end table.
This 6-8 year old girl wedges herself between people and hops up on the sofa. No issue.
Then she decides she wants to see the fish tank that’s on the end table.
She’s trying to get over the arm of the sofa, meanwhile, she’s bumping into and kicking my arm.
I had had enough. “EXCUSE ME. Am I in your way?”
“Well first of all, this is a table, not a seat…”
“I want to see the fish.”
“You can see the fish from the sofa.”
And Steve gives me this did-you-just-yell-at-someone-else’s-child look.
So I tell him, “Do you want to switch seats and sit here and get kicked? No? Then I guess you have nothing to say.”

There Would be the Sound Effect of Crumpling, if my life had sound effects…

15 01 2010


This week has been a toll-taker.

Work’s been feast-one-moment-famine-the-next, the executive Admin’s head is spinning from being pulled in 3,000 directions (“As long as he’s being unreasonable, I’m surprised that he hasn’t asked you to change the direction that the earth spins…”, I told her), I’m trying to do my 2010 file preparations (including updating my log of all the town/village governments from last years election) etc etc etc…. I’m totally not complaining, but by the time I’m done here, it’s PJ time.

I’ve been REALLY trying to get to the gym 3-4 times a week. The place is crawling with resolutioners, which means that machines are being used (which is not so bad) and being left gross and sweaty (which is gross). Seriously gross. Three of the treadmills I hopped on had pools of I’m telling myself that the ceiling is leaking in the foot holds.
Sorry, but I’m not going to wait around to use a machine I don’t really want to use when I could go home and play Wii/interact with FitTv or just come back later.

HOWEVER, I DID finally finish our photobooks from our European vacation and they’re on order with Clark labs.

AND, I found out, for sure, that I am going to The Big Apple next month for my first semi-gig in Marketing.
This found me checking for a suit (I have one.) and finding one for $30 and somehow having a $15 credit on my account.
A $150 suit cost fifteen bucks.

Meanwhile, my goals for this evening are less lofty: gym (if not crammed) and dinner with Steve. And maybe some, well… you know.

Sorry things aren’t more exciting, but I didn’t want to deal with a barage of  “WHERE ARE YOU?!!” posts.

Points a la Bullets (or not)

2 11 2009

Well, things have achieved normality again… or as normal as I can expect them to be.

Work is insanely crazy which makes me just want to go home and sleep, but alas…

Spent most of the weekend wondering how my house gets so trashed when we don’t have people over and I’m [feeling like I’ve been] constantly cleaning.

Sunday continued in our “typical Sunday” fashion. Watched the Buffalo Bills make asshats of themselves, mulched leaves, yelled at Bailey to stop running in the swampland that is our backyard, washed the dog, changed into jammies, had dinner, went to bed.

Saturday was Halloween and we went to Teppo and Charlotte’s house for a party.


lookin' right purty

(‘scuse the camera phone photo… knowing how these things get, I wasn’t about to have my camera lost/ruined/flooded/dropped)
We I made chicken wing dip* and served it as roadkill. I picked up a toy dog, cut open the tummy, removed stuffing and inserted the dish of dip. People were scared to eat it; knowing that I almost ALWAYS bring chicken wing dip.
Anyway, Steve ended up getting a bit too into character and by midnightish, I was assisting him out to YOT.

Despite the approching deadline, we do not have Eurorail passes nor hotels for London or Dublin…

Between The Grief Diet** and actually GOING to the gym, I am feeling progress. Despite that stupid scale not moving. And my trainer quitting (I have a new trainer I’m trying this evening.. I think he has a mullet if it’s who I think it is. Deets to come). And being so busy that I have to make myself go for the half hour. My bag is in the trunk, hopefully I will be able to go right from work and get some cardio in before Mullet makes me cry.

* -2 8oz packages of cream cheese, softened
– 1 bottle (wazzat, 16oz?) blue cheese
– 2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
– 2 large cans of chicken breast (found near the tuna in most stores)
– Hot sauce to taste
DO NOT go all low fat or it won’t melt right or taste right.
Mix everything together and bake at 350 for about 20 minutes, until gooey and bubbly.

** Being really sad and not wanting to eat. You’ll be happy to know that when I’m eating, it’s fairly healthy.

Few Things Feel Better than Progess

16 09 2009

I can’t lie.
This past week-ish has just been beyond frustrating.
Things not going as expected, I’ve not doing things right (in others opinion), stress, stress, not being able to go the gym, nightmares, exhaustion… you get the idea.

Tuesday night is Arranged Gym Night with Trainer Cammie.
Trainer Cammie is AWESOME and she works me. She knows where the trouble spots are and she’s so very encouraging; something I don’t get too often.

Anyway, she met me last night with the usual, “What do you want to work on tonight?”
“You know what? I don’t care. I just want to be distracted for a bit… walking out with a sense of accomplishment would be just great.”
“Let’s go upstairs*.”
“Right on.”
So, we started with some Arnold Lifts.

As shown naw.

As shown naw.

We alternated with shoulder presses… I piped up, “I’ve been working on my arms and well, I’ve using 12lbs because 10 was too light, maybe we should bump up to 15…”
And Trainer Cammie is over at the tree picking up 15lb dumbbells.
There was no crying and fatigue really set in during the third set of 12 reps.

Back downstairs, we had fun with the Roman Chair (and now I’m beginning to see how the gym sounds like a giant orgy)

Can also be done with your legs at a 90 degree angle from hip

Can also be done with your legs at a 90 degree angle from hip

I’ve pumped through the exercises, still reeling from how I feel about becoming stronger, faster, confident…
“Look at you go, doing more than 10!”
“Oh yeah, I did more than 10! Not quite 13, but more than 11!”
“Holy crap girl!”

Sure, once I got back in the car I was agitated again… but, it wasn’t as bad as it was before… I think I just need to find a way to deal with what’s going on. Like S.Le.

*Upstairs at the gym is where the no-neckers hang out… 45lb empty bars, heavier weights, intimidation….


17 06 2009

Okay, so, here’s the deal.
(if I put it in writing, it’s harder to fail because I’ve made the commitment)

Yesterday was BY FAR The Most Successful run* I’ve had in, well, ever.
I went over 2.5 miles in 40 minutes.
While I’m sure you’re like, “Yeah? So?”, consider that just a few months ago, it was a big deal for me to walk for 25 minutes… not because I’m [that] out of shape or broken or anything, but  I have this condition known as “Laziness”.

Seeing as I’m still feeling pretty much like curling up in a ball, despite rocking NEW shoes**



I have decided that it’s in my best interest to commit this rainy evening to cleaning out the office. I have decided that this is the biggest job I have to do and I’m hoping once I get it done, everything else’ll be like budder babbyyyy.

* by “run” I mean “intervals”.
** Which also do not fall into the “need” as much as “want” cataloger… and seeing as I remembered it’s free return shipping on the Shoes Which Cut-Off Circulation to My Toes
Now playing: The Tragically Hip – The Last Recluse
via FoxyTunes


11 06 2009

With the latest addition to our family (a Wii), we’ve become quite competative.

I enjoy playing Fit because it’s something I can do that doesn’t involve blowing things up.
For the record, we played an hour and a half yesterday and I smoked Steve in the following games:
– Ski Jump
– Table Tilt (“Oh, I get to use my brain and my toes!”, I cheered)
– Step aerobics
– Hula Hooping (“This game is stupid!”, he said as he flopped and pouted on the sofa)
– Super Hula Hooping
– Tree Pose

In his defense, he toasted me in:
– Lunges
– Soccer (football for your un-Americans)

Bailey, however, was less enthused

You. Sweaty Man. Out of My Gym.

8 01 2009

I’ve been a member of my gym since last March.
In that time, I’ve hardly had to compromise with cardio machines and I always knew where the weights were.
Things have changed.
The tide has turned.
I went Monday after work and the place was PACKED.

Some of the things I noticed from the n00bs:

  • Large man sweating on treadmill.  Arms cut out of shirt with “air holes” down to his waist.  Assuming that’s where a waist would be.   He DID NOT wipe down his machine.
  • Cell Phones EVERYWHERE
  • Full-sized lockers (there are talls and shorts) with A PAIR of shorts in them
  • Lockers with contents and no locks
  • Free weights left wherever the previous member was done with them.
  • People I’ve never seen
  • So much use of the word “like” even I almost barfed
  • (the parking lot is quite sizable) People driving around the first two rows of parking to find a spot close to the door.  Oh, hey, excuse me, but WTF are you going to do when you get inside?  SOME of us park away to WARM-UP before we get inside.  That’s okay, I’d bet you’re the guy who let one rip on the adjacent ‘mill.

Please, tell me the “resolvers” (as I’ve named them) will be gone soon.

Did you make any resolutions?  How go they?

Tomorrow is “progress day” for me and I’ll either be happy or disappointed…. because you know, that’s a change from normal by none.

Another Open Letter: Dear Fellow Gym Members (PT. 2)(or is it 3 now?)

13 09 2008

Dear Fellow Gym Members:
To whom it may concern and I’m talking to those of you who use the ENTIRE cardio machine for support.
You have the treadmill at at 90% incline, but you’re using the whole command center as a tether.
Really? You think you’re getting a workout?  How about this… why don’t you try a 20% incline, use the provided grips and don’t tear the face off the control panel.
You almost seem surprised that some of the cardio equipment is broken… I don’t get it.

Dear Fellow Gym Members:
While on the cardio equipment, please do not glare at me if I pant a bit while on the machine next to you.
Did you notice that I’m out of shape?
Of course you did, I saw you peek at my weight and skill level.
What you don’t know is that I will punch you in the face from my ArcTrainer.

Dear Loud Talking (cell phone or otherwise) Fellow Gym Members:
Apple made the iPod to only go so loud.  If I am listening to Slipknot and my Pod’s at max level and I can still hear your conversation about how you had a salad for lunch everyday this week, you have more of a problem then breaking a sweat.

Dear Gross Sweaty Fellow Gym Members:
Two things.
One: If you’re sweaty, that’s cool, but please, for the love of god, wipe down WHATEVER it is that you’re using.
Two: I sweat.  Don’t act like you don’t.  And stop looking away like “Ew, I can’t believe that woman is sweating.”  I’ll come over by you and do my post-workout stretching near you, making sure to exhale over my armpit in your general direction.

Thank You.

Gym Etiquette 101

6 08 2008

Melissa and I are tearing things up on the treadmills when this older gentleman takes roost at the mill to my right.
Shortly thereafter, we notice a repugnant smell.
“Bed of roses” is not even close.
We try not to gag as we round out the second mile.
I look over my shoulder and the man is sweating like two rats in a wool sock; very Flashdance-esque.
Finally he and his stench leave.
I look over at the treadmill.
It’s covered in sweat.  Stinky sweat.  And it’s creator is no where in sight.  (sometimes one needs to wander to find a spray bottle/wiping towel)

The man left his sweat all over the console, only to pool in the magazine/book holder.

I am so not kidding when I say that I almost threw up.