In a moment of sheer madness, I committed to a goal for next summer -- to participate in the Danskin Triathlon.
It is partly due to being inspired by the dozen women at my gym who participated in it this year, as I have been watching them train since February; and partly due to Gym Buddy who got to watch some of the women during the Triathlon who said to me last night -- "We can do this!"
And without thinking, I said "Sure!"
Gym Buddy is so well organized. She has already enlisted the help of Ohm Dog's Mom --which I will heretofore refer to as Momma Ohm -- to train us. She an athlete extraordinaire, an Iron Woman in her own right, but I am not sure she knows what she has gotten herself into.
In this one event I will be conquering just about every phobia I have -- swimming in lake so murky that you cannot see the bottom, and the possible misplaced alligator that may be waiting to chomp my feet; my fear of riding a road bike -- or the fear of colliding with the much heavier gas, oil and tire machines; and the fear of just plain dying from overexertion. Don't judge me -- it all happens! I've a newspaper report, I've read it all.
From here on in, it will be baby steps -- the first of which is to learn how to run, in such a manner that I can continue to walk.
On your marks, get set . . . . . . .
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Hiatus
A spot check, a broken toe and a very dark place have sent me into exile, but I am making a triumphant return.
I say this today, but who know what tomorrow will bring.
So here's the story of a freckle, and how I lost a pound of flesh:
I've always had an oval, fawn-colored freckle on my right side, and in recent months, the edges started to turn the color of dark chocolate, and grow. After 33-years, it decided to build an addition. Having the same coloring as Casper the Friendly Ghost, and having a propensity to burn when spending longer than 10 seconds in the sun without sunscreen, my freckle and I went to the doctor. The nurse practitioner examined it, and said it was indeed questionable, but said she could remove it in the office, lickity split.
More like carved out of my side. When it was all said and done, I had three stitches in an area that was three times the size of the original freckle. And it was hardly a surface wound -- she bore deep into my side and it ached for days. not to mention it was located right on my fat roll, so every time I sat or bent over, the ends of the stitches would stab me in the stomach.
And have I mentioned I am apparently allergic to Band-Aid glue? That was an added, blistering bonus to the whole experience!
The end result revealed that it was three freckles that have been with me since birth, two of which decided to emerge in the spot that was occupied by the first oval freckle. Freckles do not share well.
My recovery from that was short-lived.
It was a dark and stormy night . . . .and I had to pee. So I get out of bed, leave my glasses on the nightstand, and walk head into the master bathroom. Somehow -- whether it was me, or the cat -- the closet door was open and I walked my right pinkie-toe full speed into it, and there was pain like none other that I can remember. The room got bright, them dimmed, and my toe was instantly black. It is several weeks later and it still hurts, and really does not do well when confined. However, it is no longer black.
Now comes the dark place. I have been treated for depression for about five years, and most of the time, life it is good. However, there are times, and I can't explain what brings them on, when I go to a dark, hopeless place where all of my efforts -- be they professional or personal -- are futile to bring me out of it. It's the place where all my faults are front and center, where I can't possibly imagine anything good becoming of my life or succeeding in anything. And all I want to do is seal myself off and sleep all day. That's the worst part -- not being able to stand myself, and being so damn tired all the time. We're talking narcoleptic kind of tired, and the superhuman effort it takes to put one foot in front of the other.
But I am trudging onward. . . . . .
I say this today, but who know what tomorrow will bring.
So here's the story of a freckle, and how I lost a pound of flesh:
I've always had an oval, fawn-colored freckle on my right side, and in recent months, the edges started to turn the color of dark chocolate, and grow. After 33-years, it decided to build an addition. Having the same coloring as Casper the Friendly Ghost, and having a propensity to burn when spending longer than 10 seconds in the sun without sunscreen, my freckle and I went to the doctor. The nurse practitioner examined it, and said it was indeed questionable, but said she could remove it in the office, lickity split.
More like carved out of my side. When it was all said and done, I had three stitches in an area that was three times the size of the original freckle. And it was hardly a surface wound -- she bore deep into my side and it ached for days. not to mention it was located right on my fat roll, so every time I sat or bent over, the ends of the stitches would stab me in the stomach.
And have I mentioned I am apparently allergic to Band-Aid glue? That was an added, blistering bonus to the whole experience!
The end result revealed that it was three freckles that have been with me since birth, two of which decided to emerge in the spot that was occupied by the first oval freckle. Freckles do not share well.
My recovery from that was short-lived.
It was a dark and stormy night . . . .and I had to pee. So I get out of bed, leave my glasses on the nightstand, and walk head into the master bathroom. Somehow -- whether it was me, or the cat -- the closet door was open and I walked my right pinkie-toe full speed into it, and there was pain like none other that I can remember. The room got bright, them dimmed, and my toe was instantly black. It is several weeks later and it still hurts, and really does not do well when confined. However, it is no longer black.
Now comes the dark place. I have been treated for depression for about five years, and most of the time, life it is good. However, there are times, and I can't explain what brings them on, when I go to a dark, hopeless place where all of my efforts -- be they professional or personal -- are futile to bring me out of it. It's the place where all my faults are front and center, where I can't possibly imagine anything good becoming of my life or succeeding in anything. And all I want to do is seal myself off and sleep all day. That's the worst part -- not being able to stand myself, and being so damn tired all the time. We're talking narcoleptic kind of tired, and the superhuman effort it takes to put one foot in front of the other.
But I am trudging onward. . . . . .
Monday, June 9, 2008
Something New
The heat has clearly gotten to me -- I chose tonight, while more of New England is a sauna -- to try Pilates.
And I must be suffering from heat stroke because . . . .I liked it. Don't get me wrong, it's been 90 minutes since class finished, and all ready most of the muscles from my belly button down are starting to voice their displeasure, which by morning -- or 2:11 a.m. which is the time I seem to be waking up each morning just to, well, check the time, as it seems -- will be an all out primal scream.
I think I liked it because the Fitness Guru said many of her clients have said this truly has changed the shape of their bodies. So let's get to molding . . .
Susan Lucci makes it look so easy on those early info-mercials for the Malibu Pilates Chair, but not so. I mean, she's a smidge of a human being, but I give her credit, this stuff is HARD. When I mean hard, I mean actually TRY sitting up straight, only to realize that you are a human "c". (Or for the optimist think: "Man, I've really got this yoga cat pose down pat -- sitting, standing. Just forget the fact it should be done on your knees as a stretch, not a permanent posture. . . .)And that you look like a turtle when you raise your arms and your shoulders swallow your ears. Given my struggle with the basics, this may be a long road, but since I can't trade in this body, I can at least do what I can to shape it.
Just as kickboxing was not impossible, this will be difficult at first, and each class will get easier. It is possible, I've seen it done. (Then again, I seen David Copperfield levitate his assistants, and I still don't believe that . . . )
Speaking of levitating, just try lying down on your side and lifting both your legs off the floor, without moving anything from your hips up. And repeat it. And soon you will begin to appreciate the value of -- and the victory in -- a millimeter.
And I must be suffering from heat stroke because . . . .I liked it. Don't get me wrong, it's been 90 minutes since class finished, and all ready most of the muscles from my belly button down are starting to voice their displeasure, which by morning -- or 2:11 a.m. which is the time I seem to be waking up each morning just to, well, check the time, as it seems -- will be an all out primal scream.
I think I liked it because the Fitness Guru said many of her clients have said this truly has changed the shape of their bodies. So let's get to molding . . .
Susan Lucci makes it look so easy on those early info-mercials for the Malibu Pilates Chair, but not so. I mean, she's a smidge of a human being, but I give her credit, this stuff is HARD. When I mean hard, I mean actually TRY sitting up straight, only to realize that you are a human "c". (Or for the optimist think: "Man, I've really got this yoga cat pose down pat -- sitting, standing. Just forget the fact it should be done on your knees as a stretch, not a permanent posture. . . .)And that you look like a turtle when you raise your arms and your shoulders swallow your ears. Given my struggle with the basics, this may be a long road, but since I can't trade in this body, I can at least do what I can to shape it.
Just as kickboxing was not impossible, this will be difficult at first, and each class will get easier. It is possible, I've seen it done. (Then again, I seen David Copperfield levitate his assistants, and I still don't believe that . . . )
Speaking of levitating, just try lying down on your side and lifting both your legs off the floor, without moving anything from your hips up. And repeat it. And soon you will begin to appreciate the value of -- and the victory in -- a millimeter.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Goin' Green
I found my inspiration today in an unlikely source -- Paul Pierce of the Boston Celtics.
I am a bandwagon fan. The last time I was glued to a basketball game was -- or had to be -- 1986 because I remember it was the finals and I remember I was watching Larry Bird and his team on a Saturday afternoon.
Haven't paid much attention to the team since then, or at least until the start of the season when it appeared that we may finally have something brag about in between football and baseball.
I did something to my left knee, it's a bit locked, feeling like it needs to just snap. I was going to skip the gym today, but after not being able to go for a week,I needed to go. But my knee was truly killing me.
Then I saw the sports report, with Paul Piece being carried of the court with a pulled knee muscle, only to return later in the game, despite his injury and the team went on to win.
That's exactly what Team Me did -- sucked it up, got in the car and went to the gym.
Thanks Mon Capitain!
I am a bandwagon fan. The last time I was glued to a basketball game was -- or had to be -- 1986 because I remember it was the finals and I remember I was watching Larry Bird and his team on a Saturday afternoon.
Haven't paid much attention to the team since then, or at least until the start of the season when it appeared that we may finally have something brag about in between football and baseball.
I did something to my left knee, it's a bit locked, feeling like it needs to just snap. I was going to skip the gym today, but after not being able to go for a week,I needed to go. But my knee was truly killing me.
Then I saw the sports report, with Paul Piece being carried of the court with a pulled knee muscle, only to return later in the game, despite his injury and the team went on to win.
That's exactly what Team Me did -- sucked it up, got in the car and went to the gym.
Thanks Mon Capitain!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Fitness Guru Has Spoken
My dilemma of the previous post has been solved. One more conflict removed from life.
The answer: stay within the endurance zone. Since my goal is to first get in shape and loose weight, Deb, The f.i.t Fitness Guru, has advised me that the endurance zone is the best way for me to burn fat. So burn, baby, burn!
And while I was a little leary of being left behind – or more importantly being the only one noticeably taking it back a notch to stay within in my zone, whether it be spending more time in the saddle in spin or doing more off the bag in kickboxing – I will let my heart rate monitor be my guide.
It’s a slow process, the pounds aren’t melting away as easily as they did the first time around 10 years ago, but I do notice a difference in the way my close fit – not a change in size, but in comfort and (blessedly) some slight bagginess.
I’ll take my victories where I can get them.
The answer: stay within the endurance zone. Since my goal is to first get in shape and loose weight, Deb, The f.i.t Fitness Guru, has advised me that the endurance zone is the best way for me to burn fat. So burn, baby, burn!
And while I was a little leary of being left behind – or more importantly being the only one noticeably taking it back a notch to stay within in my zone, whether it be spending more time in the saddle in spin or doing more off the bag in kickboxing – I will let my heart rate monitor be my guide.
It’s a slow process, the pounds aren’t melting away as easily as they did the first time around 10 years ago, but I do notice a difference in the way my close fit – not a change in size, but in comfort and (blessedly) some slight bagginess.
I’ll take my victories where I can get them.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Zone Envy
It's time to move on, at least for some, and I am not sure if I am part of that pack.
Endurance training has now progressed to strength training, particulalry for those who are doing the triathalon. While I am not doing the triathalon, I am not one who likes to be left behind.
However, staying in the endurance zone burns more fat, therefore more successful for those, like me, who want to loose weight. But I want to be strong, too, hence my desire to move into the strength zone with everyone else. I am struggling with staying in the endurance zone with thoughts like "hell, but if my heart rate is up, and I am sweating like a whore in church, and focused on strength, aren't I bound to burn calories along the way?" Which is right back to my erroneous thought process that I used before teaming up with my heart rate monitor, which has been a great workout buddy.
I'm not sure how to balance this. Do I stay in endurance? Do I go totally to strength? Do I alternate days -- say, kickboxing days are strength, and spinning I aim to stay in endurance. or visa versa because I do love pushing it in spin. Is there any benefit to that?
Oh, the conflict . . .
Endurance training has now progressed to strength training, particulalry for those who are doing the triathalon. While I am not doing the triathalon, I am not one who likes to be left behind.
However, staying in the endurance zone burns more fat, therefore more successful for those, like me, who want to loose weight. But I want to be strong, too, hence my desire to move into the strength zone with everyone else. I am struggling with staying in the endurance zone with thoughts like "hell, but if my heart rate is up, and I am sweating like a whore in church, and focused on strength, aren't I bound to burn calories along the way?" Which is right back to my erroneous thought process that I used before teaming up with my heart rate monitor, which has been a great workout buddy.
I'm not sure how to balance this. Do I stay in endurance? Do I go totally to strength? Do I alternate days -- say, kickboxing days are strength, and spinning I aim to stay in endurance. or visa versa because I do love pushing it in spin. Is there any benefit to that?
Oh, the conflict . . .
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Deliver Me
I have enterred the Tenth Circle of Hell: Springtime, the one not written about in Dante's Divine Comedy.
If global warming is can kill all pollen-producing trees and flowers and every other allergen that has created the never ending faucet that has become my nose, then crank up the heat and burn this baby down.
I have been fortunate not to have struggled with springtime allergies -- until this year. I am in absolute misery. And I know I am not exaggerating because my normally sympathy-vacant husband is actually nice, and well, sympathetic to my plight.
I don't have to describe the sinus pressure, the runny nose to those who know what I am talking about. But I am lucky. I have a symptom that not many other people have -- I physically react to pollen -- a very itchy rash not unlike poison ivy which has caused me to literally bathe in anti-itch creams and lotions. Walgreens knows me by my first name.
If global warming is can kill all pollen-producing trees and flowers and every other allergen that has created the never ending faucet that has become my nose, then crank up the heat and burn this baby down.
I have been fortunate not to have struggled with springtime allergies -- until this year. I am in absolute misery. And I know I am not exaggerating because my normally sympathy-vacant husband is actually nice, and well, sympathetic to my plight.
I don't have to describe the sinus pressure, the runny nose to those who know what I am talking about. But I am lucky. I have a symptom that not many other people have -- I physically react to pollen -- a very itchy rash not unlike poison ivy which has caused me to literally bathe in anti-itch creams and lotions. Walgreens knows me by my first name.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)