Slugs

I've already been to the gym twice as much as I normally do in one week, which means I've gone twice. I'm contemplating going on Saturday too, which would make a whopping 3 times in one week. Unheard of. And all because I gave a friend a pass to the gym.

My trainer is still taking it way to easy on me; I think it scared her when she broke me. This next workout will be our 4th out of 7, so if she's still babying me I will have to tell her I need to at least break a sweat when I'm working with her. I think she's saving the rip roarin' workouts for the last two, so that she can say "Well, we're just getting going, don't you want to sign up for more and continue?" To which I say, I'm on to you Teach, I do the same thing every semester to my kiddies. I can't even begin to imagine how much these training sessions cost (since the 7 were a gift) but I can tell you that I will not be continuing with them. So I really hope she teaches me something valuable in the next session, or I'm going to ask for another coach for my last 3. Sound harsh? I'm on a tight leash lady. Can't waste my time at the gym being sluggy.

And speaking of, I can feel my body fighting like hell against something yucky and spring-brought-upon. I've tried sleeping it off this week, since it's probably one of the last I'll have to administer such cures before the crunch time sets in. But every evening I hear the Marge Simpson voice creeping out and the sluggish eyelids drooping over the text of my bedtime reading. With weather as nice as it's been lately I hope to spend more time outside enjoying it, and not being clouded in allergy-haven or worse. Of course it doesn't help that I continue to bleed- 7 weeks running now yeehaw- and fear that my fatigue is linked to the constant hemorrhaging. Or even that I might not be exaggerating and that I might Actually be hemorrhaging.

Doctor's appointment on Tuesday. If she tells me again that it's a false alarm I'm gonna set her desk on fire. Or dump blood on it Carrie style.

Fixed

I walked without the cane today, a huge improvment from the gimp that I've been the last week. I think I got a callus on my thumb from whipping that baby around. I kept my date with my trainer, and tried not to make her feel guilt about pushing me last week to crippledom. She actually spent a lot of time "loosening" my back, and relaxing my knee, so I walked out feeling better than I had all week. But BUT she absolutely FORBADE me to go running. Here's the gist:

"You're going to need to rest it for a while, and see a chiropractor because it is your back that is destroying your knees."
"So, I shouldn't jog on Wednesday? Cause I was hoping that I would feel bet..."
"HaHAHAHAHAHAHA. You're kidding!"
"Um, no. I wasn't I just thought if it was feeling better I should tr...."
"No way. I would tell you not to run for 2 months!"
"----"
"What, are you training for something"

"So I won't go this Wednesday"

But at least it feels on the mend. I fear she's probably right about the back, but there's really little to nothing I can do, especially with my health insurance running out so soon. Come on Congress, pass that universal health care bill before I'm crippled! For the children, do it for the children!

My personal trainer broke me

So today I met with my personal trainer for the first time. She is very nice; which is to say that she has the excat same personality I did when I was 17. Exactly. Frozen in time. Which wasn't a bad person, in fact, I think it was when I was still a really cute person. Dull- but cute. The only problem with her having the same personality I had when I was 17 is that she is 45. Which makes for some awkward moments when I say more mature (read: jaded) things as a joke, and she looks at me with these innocent shattering eyes. "Really" she asks, to my saying that of course the society of Star Trek the Next Generation is a wonderful idea, but implausible. "No, not really. Of course that could happen." I just can't bear to break her heart. It would be like finding my 4 year old self and saying that there is a Santa Clause, but he hates you.
On the exercise front, I had a really bad knee today because of the weather-- ok ok MAYBE I inflammed it a LITTLE bit by carrying 8 gallons of paint through 14 blocks in the rain-- but whatever the reason I showed up for our first time already a little soar and creaky. Our exercises did not seem to help, as I limped the whole way home. I hope I haven't done anything permanent and stupid. Or permanently stupid.

cool runnings

ran in central park today, 2 miles, yeah baby! My first of many runs along this route, hopefully. It was frightfully cold, at 41 degrees and windy, my least favorite weather, but I had a date to run so that kept me honest. I mentioned to my running date my theory of thinking motivation- or more appropriately my usage of fantasizing to up my heart rate to match the speed my legs need to go. He laughingly called it my porno motivation. Hmpfh. Let's see how many fantasies he features in now!
So a little sore, but feel good to have done it, and certainly the most so far.

Bring it

Just to prove that the doldrums don't rule my life, they simply sway all the elections, I DID run today, 1 mile up hill. 15 minutes including walking for warm-up. I also did minimal arms and legs, and sat in the steam room with all my clothes on. I slept relatively late, and had a hard time waking up even while running, but I have high hopes for good times tonight, so I am waking up in spurts. When I was running, at about .75 mile I started to really slow down, and felt too tired to keep going. But then my mind wandered away from the mirror reflection, past the 40 blaring TV screens and even dodged the piped 80s classics to settle on the image of curls- curls hanging like babylon, looping around nibblest ears, curls under and through my fingertips. The curls of the fella I'm seeing tonight, though the prospect of touching curls is far off, considering our past. But the curls floated in front of me, and before I knew it I was bumping against the treadmill bar, running too fast for the rotating ground beneath me. I punched in a higher speed, and ran the rest of the mile catching my legs up to my skippin heartbeat. I felt guilty only for a second; so my runner's high is passion. Big surprise. I look forward to a motivating evening.

So I picked up a hammer and Saw

I spent the day building sets for a kids' musical, all day, 9am-5pm day. A lot of lifting wood, walking in the bitter cold and breathing in paint. When I got home I was beat, but proded myself to do a least 10 minutes on the Lifecycle. I had punched in 20min, but after 10mins I could tell I'd never make it. I thought maybe I was just being lazy, but half an hour later when I hit the sack, I passed out immediately. No insomnia= genuinely wiped out. I hope to actually go to the gym tomorrow on Good Friday, but since I'm still fighting this sinus, I don't know if I'm going to want to make the trip. I'm also seeing a friend from out of town tonight, which unfortunately deters me from going to the gym, wanting to ration my limited energy for later. To be lazy, or not to be, that is the question.

What a hoe

I didn't run today, but I did garden for about an hour- and that's exercise right? That's what the health magazines always like to remind you, how many different "everyday" tasks square up to calories burned-- chew a stick of gum? 20 calories. garden for an hour? 150 calories. make love? 480 calories. They throw that one in to show how scandalous good exercise can be. But I'll tell you, the 150 gardening calories, sure hurt a lot more than the 480 lovin's.
I'm achy all over- but I think that is a combination of sitting in a stuffy jury room with other people who are stuck in a stuffy jury room, many of whom are sick, but can't go home or they'll be arrested for not sitting trial; that, and the garden broom that kept on breaking to the point when the handle actually broke off, flew over the yard wall and caused a Dennis the Menace hiding moment. After that I resorted to kicking the dirt into submission, which completed my full body workout.
So because I am achy, and possible infected with juritis, I am going to bed at the unholy hour of 10pm. What is the world coming to.