Health Fail

Ready? OK!

Well, in the past few weeks I've missed quite a few workouts. I had fully intended to stick to it, but I keep getting sick and/or hurt. And it isn't as if I'm hittin' it all that often in the first place. I'm only able to make it to bodypump classes twice a week. That's two workouts a week and no more. Pretty sad. And I'm missing half of those.

I got a new phone and lost my diet tracker app with the old one. I eventually found and reinstalled the app on my new phone, but I have yet to enter a single meal into it. It wasn't as if I had so drastically altered my diet in response to the calorie knowledge anyway, but it had helped to know just what I was eating and how many calories it was adding up to. For the record, I average about 2000 calories a day and I'm 6 feet tall. So I should weigh ... what? Less than I currently do, that's for sure.

I keep getting sick. It has started to worry me. I don't think I've ever been so sick so many times before. I even ran the Warrior Dash while sick just because I'm so tired of being sick and I was simply not going to let it make me miss that. It wasn't just a race. It was an experience. And I wanted it. Supposedly, lots of exercising and careful eating is supposed to make you healthier, not sicker. So if that's the case then what kind of shape would I be in if I weren't working out so much? Would I be in the hospital with some fatal illness or something? This is really getting ridiculous.

Where does it hurt?

So, I've discovered that the GNC website has no wish list and won't store the items in your cart for more than about 24 hours. Awesome. Thanks, you douchebags. So I guess I'll start keeping a GNC "grocery list" in Excel or something and then just go ahead into the store itself and skip their useless website from now on.

Why doesn't Blogger know how to spell 'douchebags' yet? Seriously, it's got a red underline to let me know that Blogger thinks I've misspelled it. Sorry, Bloggerbags, but I think I've got it right. If not, then close enough.

I'm ripping $5 WalMart CDs right now and currently Whitesnake is singing "Still of the Night" and making me feel like I'm in high school or something. Somewhere in my mind I'm picturing Tawny Kitaen doing gymnastics on the hood of my old car and making me mess my pants. Did you know she did that video totally unrehearsed? They had brought in Paula Abdul to teach her how to dance for the video and when Paula saw her doing her gymnastics on the cars she said, "what do you need me for? She's got it." And she left.

Well, this is truly a rather random post. I mean, I've pretty well said what I came to say. Tomorrow is another pump class and I intend to be there, but all day today my wrist was killing me and I have no idea why. This keeps happening, much like my repeat sicknesses, and it's bugging me. I'll be in class tomorrow, but that's still only one workout for the entire week. Hardly accomplishing much.

Sometimes I feel as if this is my theme song:

MURDER!!!

We had a substitute trainer today at the gym. I had never seen her before. I shall never forget her, though.

I knew she was up to no good when I came in and was told that I would need every single weapon available in the room - weighted bar, balance ball, medicine ball, 2 different cables, step plus 3 risers on each end, multiple dumbbells, mat. And by God, we used them, every one.

I was so oxygen deprived midway through the class that I can barely remember much about what all we did. I just remember that it was fast. We moved quickly and if you stopped to breathe or get some water or wipe sweat off your face or the floor then you were instantly behind.

"Hurry up - go, go, go" she cracked like a whip.

I heard weights hitting the floor throughout the class as people grew exhausted and gave up, dropping their weights and trying to catch their breath.

I tried to drop my weights quietly so the college girls wouldn't hear me wimping out. Of course, they could SEE me wimping out if they looked my way, but I was counting on their not wanting me to look at them and thus avoiding looking at me to prevent eye contact as my protective invisibility shield. I realize that girls all pumped up on estrogen have the peripheral vision of an owl and can virtually see in all directions at once, but I'd prefer to believe that none of them saw me stopping and falling behind. Let's just agree to say that they didn't.

We did exercises I had only ever seen in horror movies - squatting low, pressing weights overhead and then jumping as high as we could before landing in a lunge and then dropping into pushups and oddly rolling into a ball and falling forward for some Martian tricep push-back exercise that I had never heard of before. I'm surprised we didn't do any handstand presses from a sitting position. No one mention those to her or I swear to God she'll make us do that next time!

After class she started talking to a soccer player about how his squats are wrong. She pressed her chest against the mirrors and slid her body down the glass, jutting her ass straight back and then rising up again. I know I have watched strippers do that move before, but she insisted that it is a good way to work on your form for squats because it forces you to keep your chest up and thrust your hips back. To me it just looks like a sexual position that young girls on silver poles use to get extra money thrown up onstage. But who am I to say?

She commented on my form since I was standing there watching her do her stripper squats. Apparently she noticed that I do a certain exercise differently than everyone else. She made us use the weighted bar to squat down, then press the bar overhead, then stand straight up, lower the bar, and repeat again and again times 1000. I found that my form didn't feel right when my hands were close together like everyone else was doing, so I slid them out wide and turned it into an Olympic style snatch move. It felt right to me that way, so I stuck with it. But apparently it looked odd to her. Except that my form was good so she hadn't said anything during class.

All that jumping and not stopping to breath turned my legs into rubber. I wobbled out of the classroom and went to the showers. That was almost 3 hours ago and I'm still wobbling. I suspect I shall wobble for the rest of the day. Perhaps even the rest of the week.

Cursed evil woman.

Monday

I had intended to make my first post after returning from vacation a series of photos and maybe some video from the beach, but as all of that is on my laptop and I am nowhere near my laptop, it'll have to wait.

It's cloudy today, which has cooled things off nicely. That's a real relief after a week burning in the July sun at the beach. At least we had the ocean there, but now that I'm home again there is no ocean to jump into when the heat gets to be overwhelming. And the air conditioning in my car hasn't been all that good lately. I probably need to go have it recharged.

Today is another bodypump class. I haven't been in a week and a half. I'm not enthused about going today, and if anyone were to call me up and say, "let's do lunch" I'd skip out on class and go eat some very unhealthy restaurant food instead. Yes, I know I'm a bad athlete, but I've been a bad athlete for awhile now. That's how I ended up in bodypump class in the first place.

Depending on how humiliating my workout is today I may update this post with more information. Otherwise, I've just farted and judging from the way it is fogging up the windows in my office I suspect I need to go have a sit-down on the toilet.

Cheers!