I had to work late last night. Later than usual. I got home around 8pm or maybe a bit later. Who knows because all I could think about was the fact that I still had to injure myself...*ahem*...I mean, work out. All I wanted to do was get this workout done and over so that I could pour a bowl of my homemade chili for din din and chill out for about 3 minutes before the nightly demands started. I walk through the front door and see that my 6 year old daughter is fast asleep on the couch.
JACKPOT!
I can work out and then eat my dinner without having to stop and answer 50 questions about if I got her anything while I was at work, why the sky is blue, and why I'm the only one in the house that she wants me to cook her dinner.
I race upstairs and throw my shorts and Dukes of Hazzard tshirt on-because a Dukes of Hazzard tshirt clearly says: I'm a badass-and run downstairs to begin my workout. That's when I realize that I have something attached to my side. A cling-on of some sort. It comes up to about my elbow and has disheveled light brown hair.
The princess has awakened from her slumber.
"Mommy-I'm-hungry-will-you-cook-me-dinner-and-read-this-book-where-is-the-United-States-on-this-map-I-thought-we-lived-in-a glove-that-doesn't-look-like-a-glove-oh-you-mean-we-live-in-Michigan-INSIDE-the-United-States-I-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom-can-you-watch-my-food-how-much-longer-do-you-have-to-workout??? I'm bored."
It's truly a work out just to get to my workout.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Day 8...
My Power 90 adventure continues to be an eye opening event. I learn something new about my body daily it seems.
I, apparently, have an important muscle in my armpit region that I use a lot more than I ever thought possible when it comes to armpit muscle usage.
I lift my arms...my armpits hurt.
I lower my arms...my armpits hurt.
I pick something up...my armpit hurts.
I close a car door...my armpit hurts....
I'm sure you get the picture.
With my luck, by the time these 90 days are over I will not have flat abs but seriously toned armpit musculature. Oh, baby.
I, apparently, have an important muscle in my armpit region that I use a lot more than I ever thought possible when it comes to armpit muscle usage.
I lift my arms...my armpits hurt.
I lower my arms...my armpits hurt.
I pick something up...my armpit hurts.
I close a car door...my armpit hurts....
I'm sure you get the picture.
With my luck, by the time these 90 days are over I will not have flat abs but seriously toned armpit musculature. Oh, baby.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Where Is My Motivation, People? OH! There It Is...
Yet again I'm amazed at what an emotionally traumatizing event can do for one's exercise routine.
You're not following me are you?
Ok, this is the thing, you ever notice that when you get really angry about something...I'm talking RAGING angry about something that it gives you that extra little *oomph* in your workout? Well, something really got my goat in the last couple of days and it has got me madder than a wet hen. That means "really annoyed" for all you city speak folk out there.
I'm not going to go into detail about the reason my panties are in a bunch but it has got me goin'. The good thing about all this angst and pissy-ness is that my workouts are getting that extra kick in the butt which means more calories burned for me. I can practically see my assets shrinking!
Well, not really, but I'm convinced just being angry burns more calories than being happy or content. I sweat when I'm mad. Seriously. More than usual and I'm part Native American and French...there is a lot of sweating going on. Make me angry and I look like Billy Blanks in one of those Advanced Tae Bo VHS tapes! Except I'm white...and I'm a girl...and I'm not in nearly that good of shape...but the sweat! Billy's excessive sweating = my excessive sweating. There, that's the Clif's notes version of the whole sweat issue.
So there I am doing the cardio portion of my Power 90 program last night. To be specific we're on the "punching" section. I know I look ridiculous punching, I don't kid myself about the lack of toughness that I convey. However, my partner aka husband feels it necessary to heckle me while I go about my exercise.
"You look like a windmill that's gone horribly WRONG! You're confusing me!" This said whilst hiding behind his own raised arms. Like I'm some horrible mutant that has assaulted his eyes.
This just aggravates my anger which has gradually turned into rage and I start to windmill even more aggressively. All the while thinking: "I'll show him. I can punch and look tough with the best of them. I am an ANIMAL!"
Then it hits me...
No, literally, I hit myself in the mouth. Smooth. The only thing saving me is the fact that I didn't tell him and he didn't notice. I mean, it's not like I gave myself a bloody lip. THAT would have been hard to hide.
At least I still have the rage left inside of me for tonight's workout.
You're not following me are you?
Ok, this is the thing, you ever notice that when you get really angry about something...I'm talking RAGING angry about something that it gives you that extra little *oomph* in your workout? Well, something really got my goat in the last couple of days and it has got me madder than a wet hen. That means "really annoyed" for all you city speak folk out there.
I'm not going to go into detail about the reason my panties are in a bunch but it has got me goin'. The good thing about all this angst and pissy-ness is that my workouts are getting that extra kick in the butt which means more calories burned for me. I can practically see my assets shrinking!
Well, not really, but I'm convinced just being angry burns more calories than being happy or content. I sweat when I'm mad. Seriously. More than usual and I'm part Native American and French...there is a lot of sweating going on. Make me angry and I look like Billy Blanks in one of those Advanced Tae Bo VHS tapes! Except I'm white...and I'm a girl...and I'm not in nearly that good of shape...but the sweat! Billy's excessive sweating = my excessive sweating. There, that's the Clif's notes version of the whole sweat issue.
So there I am doing the cardio portion of my Power 90 program last night. To be specific we're on the "punching" section. I know I look ridiculous punching, I don't kid myself about the lack of toughness that I convey. However, my partner aka husband feels it necessary to heckle me while I go about my exercise.
"You look like a windmill that's gone horribly WRONG! You're confusing me!" This said whilst hiding behind his own raised arms. Like I'm some horrible mutant that has assaulted his eyes.
This just aggravates my anger which has gradually turned into rage and I start to windmill even more aggressively. All the while thinking: "I'll show him. I can punch and look tough with the best of them. I am an ANIMAL!"
Then it hits me...
No, literally, I hit myself in the mouth. Smooth. The only thing saving me is the fact that I didn't tell him and he didn't notice. I mean, it's not like I gave myself a bloody lip. THAT would have been hard to hide.
At least I still have the rage left inside of me for tonight's workout.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Pain...Glorious Pain
Power 90 with Tony has re-entered the picture. I know in the past Tony and I haven't gotten along. I know I tried to replace him with other exercise routines but we just can't get enough of each other. I mean, it's not like we were committed or anything so he can't complain...we were on a BREAK! Well, 2 days ago I made a promise to stay with him and his Power 90 program for 90 days. Eek. You heard me right folks. 90 whole days...with only 1 rest day per week.
I haven't given up on running, I really haven't. Really. It's just that lately I've had to take a step back and re-evaluate my relationship with running. Not to mention I live in Michigan and it's freaking cold outside right now! Pair that with the fact that it's dark by the time I get home after work and how I loath running on the treadmill...well, you get the picture. So running and I decided that we should see other people for a little while; just until the snow melts or I break down and use the dreaded treadmill in the basement of doom. Don't worry, we're still the best of friends.
Back to Tony and I...if you've never heard of the Power 90 program before then you are in for a treat! It consists of 2 DVD's; that means I can stay warm AND dry while working out! I've never had my snot freeze to my face while doing Power 90, people. NEVER. Anyhow, the program starts off with Level 1-2 and moves on to Level 3-4 when you deem yourself ready. Which is semi-bad news for someone like me because *I* am never ready to move onto anything that is considered "harder" or "more challenging" but that's where my workout partner aka husband falls into play. He feels that "Oh, a week or so of this 1-2 business and we can switch to 3-4; NO PROBLEM!" All the while he has this crazed look of someone who has clearly lost his mind and doesn't comprehend the fact that for the last several months he has been not exactly what I would call...um...active. Let's face it, neither one of us are spring chickens either so let's not throw caution to the wind and end up breaking a hip or something.
*Ahem*
The program is alternating days of weights and cardio workouts that are 30 minutes a piece plus some stretching time with one day off a week; I've chosen Friday because that's my fun day and fun day to me does not = Power 90. Call me a pessimist if you want, I don't care. I've completed 2 workouts as I write this; 1 cardio and 1 weight training. I can sum the way I feel up in 2 words:
I hurt.
I can barely lift my arms past my belly button and it feels as though my abdominal muscles are actually trying to rip their way out of my body and move to another state. That means it's working though, right? Anyone?
Judging by my past experience with this program, the soreness should end in about a week until I level up and then it still won't be as severe as it is now. Mama can't wait for that day! I'm seriously, hobbeling around here like a drunken sailor but I'm not drunk or a sailor which is a bummer on so many levels.
I haven't given up on running, I really haven't. Really. It's just that lately I've had to take a step back and re-evaluate my relationship with running. Not to mention I live in Michigan and it's freaking cold outside right now! Pair that with the fact that it's dark by the time I get home after work and how I loath running on the treadmill...well, you get the picture. So running and I decided that we should see other people for a little while; just until the snow melts or I break down and use the dreaded treadmill in the basement of doom. Don't worry, we're still the best of friends.
Back to Tony and I...if you've never heard of the Power 90 program before then you are in for a treat! It consists of 2 DVD's; that means I can stay warm AND dry while working out! I've never had my snot freeze to my face while doing Power 90, people. NEVER. Anyhow, the program starts off with Level 1-2 and moves on to Level 3-4 when you deem yourself ready. Which is semi-bad news for someone like me because *I* am never ready to move onto anything that is considered "harder" or "more challenging" but that's where my workout partner aka husband falls into play. He feels that "Oh, a week or so of this 1-2 business and we can switch to 3-4; NO PROBLEM!" All the while he has this crazed look of someone who has clearly lost his mind and doesn't comprehend the fact that for the last several months he has been not exactly what I would call...um...active. Let's face it, neither one of us are spring chickens either so let's not throw caution to the wind and end up breaking a hip or something.
*Ahem*
The program is alternating days of weights and cardio workouts that are 30 minutes a piece plus some stretching time with one day off a week; I've chosen Friday because that's my fun day and fun day to me does not = Power 90. Call me a pessimist if you want, I don't care. I've completed 2 workouts as I write this; 1 cardio and 1 weight training. I can sum the way I feel up in 2 words:
I hurt.
I can barely lift my arms past my belly button and it feels as though my abdominal muscles are actually trying to rip their way out of my body and move to another state. That means it's working though, right? Anyone?
Judging by my past experience with this program, the soreness should end in about a week until I level up and then it still won't be as severe as it is now. Mama can't wait for that day! I'm seriously, hobbeling around here like a drunken sailor but I'm not drunk or a sailor which is a bummer on so many levels.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Run Like a Girl
This weekend is my daughter's inaugural run. My daughter is the light of my life. The air that I breathe. The cheese to my cracker. The manic to my depressive. Er. Whatever.
I am incredibly excited to tell you that this very weekend her and I will be running the Red October 1 mile Kids Fun Run. It's a mere 1 mile but my daughter is only 6 years old and well...I haven't exactly been running very faithfully as of late. No worries though, I'm no quitter! I can't wait to slip on my running shoes and pound the pavement alongside my favorite person in the world.
I picture her and I gracefully running together...the picture of the perfect mother-daughter bond. Then I come back to reality and realize that I'll be a wheezing wreck and I'll have to beg my 6 year old to slow down for my geriatric butt.
Que sara sara...and all that junk.
I am incredibly excited to tell you that this very weekend her and I will be running the Red October 1 mile Kids Fun Run. It's a mere 1 mile but my daughter is only 6 years old and well...I haven't exactly been running very faithfully as of late. No worries though, I'm no quitter! I can't wait to slip on my running shoes and pound the pavement alongside my favorite person in the world.
I picture her and I gracefully running together...the picture of the perfect mother-daughter bond. Then I come back to reality and realize that I'll be a wheezing wreck and I'll have to beg my 6 year old to slow down for my geriatric butt.
Que sara sara...and all that junk.
Monday, September 14, 2009
I May Not Be The Fastest But At Least I'm Not The Lastest!
I've said this several hundred...thousand...maybe MILLION times over the last 6 months: Running is not easy for me. I'm not a naturally athletic person. No matter how much I run, it will never be easy for me. Yet, I still get out there and do it. I run slowly and I'm not exactly something special to see. I have good weeks when I run almost everyday and then I have terrible weeks where I run ZERO...ZILCH...NADA.
I sign up for race after race and tell myself:
"This is my break-through run. I will do this run and not whine about pain, I will ignore my screaming muscles and joints, push through and be victorious!"
That's usually prior to having the starting gun go off and me being left in the dust by children and seniors alike. *sigh* I admit, I can be what others call "overly-dramatic".
I'm serious about being left behind by almost everyone though. I'm slow-I've said it before in the above paragraph and probably several below this also in other posts.
The race that I did on Sunday was a 5K for a local fire department. I'm not going to name it because I'm NEVER, EVER, EVER running in it again. Why? Because not only was the actual event disorganized to the point that I didn't know what time to be there, where to be, or if the race was still scheduled or cancelled. Here's the kicker though, folks:
People cheated.
Go ahead and re-read that if you have to....you know, just in case you couldn't process it the first time. Yes, runners and walkers alike were witnessed cheating by my very own eyes. I watched one woman who was behind me run to the 2 mile marker and turn and run back the direction she came from which cut off over 1 mile of her run. Think of the time advantage that gave her. There were people who skipped over the entire last 2 miles because they avoided that portion of the course.
I was in pain, I ran the entire blessed course and I HURT. These dirty cheaters got better times than me because they CHEATED. I wanted to tackle them when I came across the finish line. They were lucky they were no where near the refreshment table when I was there because I would have stuffed bagels down their shorts and kicked them in their shins.
What type of people CHEAT at a 5K that's for charity? If you don't know, I can point you in the direction of where they live.
Now, I'll cut them some slack...this was the first year for this race. I'm sure that every race has it's hiccups but these were not just slight hiccups...these were gas bubbles the size of Texas that they need to work out. It's bad enough that I know I'm not a strong runner but to have someone pour salt in the wound by blatantly cheating is beyond me. That's just not in the true spirit of the sport of running. I came out of this race extremely discouraged and ready to retire my running shoes for good until I was told by my husband that he was proud of me because even though running does not come naturally or easily for me, I keep doing it and I refuse to give up.
Well, snap. I guess I can't quit now.
I sign up for race after race and tell myself:
"This is my break-through run. I will do this run and not whine about pain, I will ignore my screaming muscles and joints, push through and be victorious!"
That's usually prior to having the starting gun go off and me being left in the dust by children and seniors alike. *sigh* I admit, I can be what others call "overly-dramatic".
I'm serious about being left behind by almost everyone though. I'm slow-I've said it before in the above paragraph and probably several below this also in other posts.
The race that I did on Sunday was a 5K for a local fire department. I'm not going to name it because I'm NEVER, EVER, EVER running in it again. Why? Because not only was the actual event disorganized to the point that I didn't know what time to be there, where to be, or if the race was still scheduled or cancelled. Here's the kicker though, folks:
People cheated.
Go ahead and re-read that if you have to....you know, just in case you couldn't process it the first time. Yes, runners and walkers alike were witnessed cheating by my very own eyes. I watched one woman who was behind me run to the 2 mile marker and turn and run back the direction she came from which cut off over 1 mile of her run. Think of the time advantage that gave her. There were people who skipped over the entire last 2 miles because they avoided that portion of the course.
I was in pain, I ran the entire blessed course and I HURT. These dirty cheaters got better times than me because they CHEATED. I wanted to tackle them when I came across the finish line. They were lucky they were no where near the refreshment table when I was there because I would have stuffed bagels down their shorts and kicked them in their shins.
What type of people CHEAT at a 5K that's for charity? If you don't know, I can point you in the direction of where they live.
Now, I'll cut them some slack...this was the first year for this race. I'm sure that every race has it's hiccups but these were not just slight hiccups...these were gas bubbles the size of Texas that they need to work out. It's bad enough that I know I'm not a strong runner but to have someone pour salt in the wound by blatantly cheating is beyond me. That's just not in the true spirit of the sport of running. I came out of this race extremely discouraged and ready to retire my running shoes for good until I was told by my husband that he was proud of me because even though running does not come naturally or easily for me, I keep doing it and I refuse to give up.
Well, snap. I guess I can't quit now.
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