Exact number of days after being hit by the bus (aka lifting the stupid weights) before the pain left my arms: 5
Total number of days I spent whining about the pain in my arms: 5
List of things that are difficult, painful, annoying, or impossible to accomplish without the use of afore mentioned arms:
1. EVERYTHING!!!
Happily, blissfully, FINALLY, fully recovered- I of course began thinking of all the amazing pain free things I could do with my arms. It was a wonderful, sky is the limit type list. You know things like: Challenge the kids to a game of charades, take an interpretative dance class, pick up a side gig as a mime, learn to juggle... Why is it that it takes getting over a cold for me to appreciate the miracle of breathing? I have to contract a stomach virus to remember how cool it is to eat and digest. And why did it take five days of "ouch" to appreciate that I had arms.... One week into this weight lifting adventure and first life lesson learned. I am grateful for a healthy body and even more determined to take care of it. I want to do interpretive dance well into my eighties...
In retrospect, I think that I probably experienced so much pain after the first day in the weight room partly due to the fact that I was rushing, and didn't warm up or stretch out after. I know, rookie mistake. I should know better. The good thing is that this realization gave me a little hope that it would not be as bad the second time around. Because honestly- the. very. last. thing. I wanted to do with my arms was to take them back into the weight room.
Luckily since I work at the gym, I have to go there anyway. So like it or not, I really had no excuse. Dumbbell torture part two was emanate.
So here is the thing about doughnuts. I pretty much love them. I blame my childhood, sorry Mom-but you know it's true. I'm not sure if I mentioned before, but the Captain America plan that I have concocted for myself includes "clean" eating. Because apparently it is difficult to see beautiful sculpted muscles if they are buried under cookies and doughnuts (sigh). Lucky for me I don't have a multi-million dollar movie role that I have to get in shape for. Pretty much it's my own vanity, and new found determination to be an eighty-year old juggling, interpretive dancing mime that is propelling me. So my version of "clean" eating is perhaps a little more flexible then what Chris Evans had to endure. Sorry, Captain.
My plan is to eat as "clean" as possible. Severely limiting, rather than completely removing said cookies and doughnuts. I guess this is a good idea anyway since apparently refined sugar is poison. (sigh again). They really shouldn't make poison taste so good.
This is how I know the universe hates me.
As I said, morning five. I am pain free, scheduled to teach, and therefore going to do the weights after I finish. But first, I have to be Mom. (Pretty sure Captain America didn't have Mommy duties before his workout, so ha! take that, one point for the wimpy girl).
The problem: Mom duties include doughnuts. Josh has scout day camp which I had been told would be serving doughnuts to the boys. My boy would need to bring his own gluten, dairy soy free doughnuts or be left out. First Mom duty: Get special doughnut for the boy. OF COURSE, after buying doughnuts for Josh, Kloe needs them, because- "It's not fair that Josh gets doughnuts and I don't." So second Mom duty: Regular doughnuts for the girl. Morning five. Both kids happily eating doughnuts. I resist. I am strong. I am proud. I am awesome.
I drop Josh off at day camp. They are not kidding they are serving doughnuts. LOTS of doughnuts. The entire room smells of their yeasty, chocolaty goodness. My mouth waters, my stomach growls. I resist. I go home. I eat oatmeal with berries because that's what Captain America did. I think I love him just a little bit less.
I make it to the gym, teach spinning, teach the nutrition class. Today's topic: Healthy snacking and how to resist temptations. I am not kidding. I didn't pick the topic. The universe is mocking me. But it's all good because I resisted my temptation, TWICE this morning. Finally, into the weight room I go. Yep. Just as miserable as the first day. Only this time I have the voice of my cursing muscles in my head saying "noooo, not again!" I play it smart, warm up, take it slow, rest between sets, stretch out after, and survive. I am pretty much amazing.
I get Kloe from her class, and all we have to do is walk out of the gym. Easy right? Nope. Because as I mentioned, the universe hates me. As we pass the welcome desk, the attendant stops us. "Hey guys, it's doughnut day. Go ahead and take a doughnut with you."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!! I seriously look around for hidden cameras, certain that I must be being punked or something. Kloe is jumping up and down picking the one with pink frosting and sprinkles. How much willpower is one wimpy woman supposed to possess? A thought begins to form... Maybe the universe doesn't hate me after all? Maybe the universe is sending me a message that life is too short to live without doughnuts. One doughnut for Kloe... and one for ME! Yep. Sadly, not as awesome as I had been telling myself all morning. Unexpected life lesson number two: Don't get cocky or the universe will sabotage your willpower with doughnuts until you break!!!
I ate the doughnut in the van while driving home, skipped the protein shake because they are both chocolate, so pretty much the same thing right?
Good news. Pain this time was MUCH better. It could have been the stretching, but I am thinking it was probably the doughnut!!
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
95 lb. weakling
I wonder who came up the the bright idea that lifting weights might be awesome. Was it the cavemen? Did they see a giant rock outside their cave and think, I should lift this boulder in as many different ways possible- yes that would be tons of fun!
I have worked at a gym for almost five years now and regardless of who came up with the idea, people lift weights. Lots of people, all day long. People. Not me.
I have been a fitness counselor at said gym and have instructed many of these lifting people, that the best path to health and fitness is a road paved with both cardio-type exercise AND weight lifting. And I do understand the science behind the concept, really, I am not deliberately trying to mislead the lifting people or anything. but hypocrite that I am, despite teaching people to do this, I never actually do it myself. I am the epitome of, 'those who don't do- teach!'
The point is that, the guilt and peer pressure have gotten to me, people! That, coupled with the fact that my arms are roughly the same size as my six year old daughter's, has compelled me to give weight lifting a try. I am documenting my efforts because I am realistic enough to know that I severely lack the motivation to stick with this and I hope, hope, hope, that writing this down might help a little bit.
I guess if I am also being completely honest here, the guilt and such got to me a long time ago. Years in fact. But, I kept making all kinds of excuses for not starting. (none of which are worth documenting as they are all completely lame). I did spend some of that, 'not starting time,' researching how to go about lifting weights and bulking up. And by researching I mean, I watched the movie, Captain America. I know, awesomely scientific right? But seriously despite a little bit of added movie magic, the personal trainers added twenty pounds of muscle to Chris Evans in three months. I read the interview in Men's health magazine about how they did it.
I figure, that since adding the muscle was essentially his only job, and the fact that he had a dedicated personal trainer and dietitian on his team, Chris Evans had a significant advantage over me. But I also figure that I am not looking to add that much muscle, (I am thinking more like 3-5 pounds). And I don't have a movie shooting deadline to make, so I can take a little longer. The basic, Captain America bulking up strategy seems like a good one. The concept: Work your muscles, feed your muscles, rest your muscles, repeat. Not rocket science right?
I got myself all fueled up since I am going to need to "feed the muscles" I looked around, read and researched some more and picked Advocare supplements for the necessary amino acids, vitamins and protein that muscles need and love. Without all the extra, bad for your body- chemical junk. Because it would really suck to try for a healthy toned body and end up with chemical induced cancer. I picked a day to start, and jumped in.
Day one lifting was yesterday. I was motivated, I was determined, I was fueled up, I was ready! Then I discovered, that someone (aka my children) stole my ear buds. No ear buds, no music, no motivation... I was dangerously close to having a very valid excuse for procrastinating starting another day, then I remembered that Walgreens is on the way to the Y, and sells $5 ear buds. Excuse, no longer valid. (sigh). Crappy new ear buds in hand, (what do you expect for $5) I made it to the Y, set the play list and started lifting. Yep, it totally sucked. I lifted the whole circuit weights 3 mins. per machine x 10 machines = 30 minutes of torture. I hate the caveman who thought it would be a good idea. But actually, once the torture ended I felt pretty good. I came home and flexed in front of the mirror, I think I noticed a change. I blended my protein shake with the Rocky theme song playing in my head, and could hear my muscles singing praises as I drank it down. This is awesome, I thought. I feel stronger already, I thought. I can totally do this, I thought. Feeling very proud and accomplished. I went about being Mom and started the laundry, fixed dinner, played with the kids and then the sun went down.
I have never actually been hit by a bus. But by the time the sun set last night, I am pretty sure I could tell you exactly what getting hit by a bus feels like. I am also thinking that NOW would be a great day to sign up for an online anatomy class because I know the location of, Every. Single. Muscle. In my body! And let me tell you, they are no longer singing my praises. In fact I am pretty sure they are hurling angry cuss words in wide and various languages. This morning. not better. I now understand why those really muscly men don't straighten their arms. It's not because they have such big biceps. It's because it HURTS! I have been walking around all day with my arms curled up looking like I am ready to punch someone, which is pretty accurate because I feel like punching someone, starting with the weight lifting inventing cave man, followed by the authors of Men's heath Magazine, and then Captain America himself. Well, okay maybe not Captain. (It's not his fault after all, and he probably feels my pain, and he is too pretty to hit, and I think he would win a fistfight with me).
It will get easier. It will be worth it. I can do this, Right?
I have worked at a gym for almost five years now and regardless of who came up with the idea, people lift weights. Lots of people, all day long. People. Not me.
I have been a fitness counselor at said gym and have instructed many of these lifting people, that the best path to health and fitness is a road paved with both cardio-type exercise AND weight lifting. And I do understand the science behind the concept, really, I am not deliberately trying to mislead the lifting people or anything. but hypocrite that I am, despite teaching people to do this, I never actually do it myself. I am the epitome of, 'those who don't do- teach!'
The point is that, the guilt and peer pressure have gotten to me, people! That, coupled with the fact that my arms are roughly the same size as my six year old daughter's, has compelled me to give weight lifting a try. I am documenting my efforts because I am realistic enough to know that I severely lack the motivation to stick with this and I hope, hope, hope, that writing this down might help a little bit.
I guess if I am also being completely honest here, the guilt and such got to me a long time ago. Years in fact. But, I kept making all kinds of excuses for not starting. (none of which are worth documenting as they are all completely lame). I did spend some of that, 'not starting time,' researching how to go about lifting weights and bulking up. And by researching I mean, I watched the movie, Captain America. I know, awesomely scientific right? But seriously despite a little bit of added movie magic, the personal trainers added twenty pounds of muscle to Chris Evans in three months. I read the interview in Men's health magazine about how they did it.
I figure, that since adding the muscle was essentially his only job, and the fact that he had a dedicated personal trainer and dietitian on his team, Chris Evans had a significant advantage over me. But I also figure that I am not looking to add that much muscle, (I am thinking more like 3-5 pounds). And I don't have a movie shooting deadline to make, so I can take a little longer. The basic, Captain America bulking up strategy seems like a good one. The concept: Work your muscles, feed your muscles, rest your muscles, repeat. Not rocket science right?
I got myself all fueled up since I am going to need to "feed the muscles" I looked around, read and researched some more and picked Advocare supplements for the necessary amino acids, vitamins and protein that muscles need and love. Without all the extra, bad for your body- chemical junk. Because it would really suck to try for a healthy toned body and end up with chemical induced cancer. I picked a day to start, and jumped in.
Day one lifting was yesterday. I was motivated, I was determined, I was fueled up, I was ready! Then I discovered, that someone (aka my children) stole my ear buds. No ear buds, no music, no motivation... I was dangerously close to having a very valid excuse for procrastinating starting another day, then I remembered that Walgreens is on the way to the Y, and sells $5 ear buds. Excuse, no longer valid. (sigh). Crappy new ear buds in hand, (what do you expect for $5) I made it to the Y, set the play list and started lifting. Yep, it totally sucked. I lifted the whole circuit weights 3 mins. per machine x 10 machines = 30 minutes of torture. I hate the caveman who thought it would be a good idea. But actually, once the torture ended I felt pretty good. I came home and flexed in front of the mirror, I think I noticed a change. I blended my protein shake with the Rocky theme song playing in my head, and could hear my muscles singing praises as I drank it down. This is awesome, I thought. I feel stronger already, I thought. I can totally do this, I thought. Feeling very proud and accomplished. I went about being Mom and started the laundry, fixed dinner, played with the kids and then the sun went down.
I have never actually been hit by a bus. But by the time the sun set last night, I am pretty sure I could tell you exactly what getting hit by a bus feels like. I am also thinking that NOW would be a great day to sign up for an online anatomy class because I know the location of, Every. Single. Muscle. In my body! And let me tell you, they are no longer singing my praises. In fact I am pretty sure they are hurling angry cuss words in wide and various languages. This morning. not better. I now understand why those really muscly men don't straighten their arms. It's not because they have such big biceps. It's because it HURTS! I have been walking around all day with my arms curled up looking like I am ready to punch someone, which is pretty accurate because I feel like punching someone, starting with the weight lifting inventing cave man, followed by the authors of Men's heath Magazine, and then Captain America himself. Well, okay maybe not Captain. (It's not his fault after all, and he probably feels my pain, and he is too pretty to hit, and I think he would win a fistfight with me).
It will get easier. It will be worth it. I can do this, Right?
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