Workout One-Day Week in review - Week 5

Oops!! This workout week (and by week, I mean "Monday") brought to you by the Bay Bridge FAIL. I worked out on Monday. It was actually pretty good. I managed consistent 30-second sprints, I did some complicated kettle-bell lifting, I may have completed an actual push-up (I sort of blacked out, so I'm not sure, but I was still in plank position and my arms were wobbling when I came to, so I think I did it), I gave the old abs a good once-over and I felt sweaty and inspired coming away. Then the Bay Bridge CRUMBLED INTO THE BAY on Tuesday, Well, not really, but my confidence level is such that I feel it's only a matter of time. Fear of dying while going to workout (oh, the irony! And no makeup and yoga pants? Not the final look anyone would choose for oneself I'm sure) aside, the Bay Bridge has yet to reopen. This means that I have not worked out since Monday. Now, sure, all you sensible people are saying "But, you could work out in the city! There's a gym about 75 paces from your front door. A gym you've been a dues paying member of for nigh on 7 years now! Just work out there! Just walk home from work even! That's a 4 mile hike. Lots of it uphill!! Do it!" And to all you sensible people, I say SHUT IT! My workout regimen now consists of boot camp and feeling bad about not going to bootcamp when I skip it. That is all I can handle, people.

So, effectively this week was a total bust workout-wise. Here is a partial list of things I did get accomplished though:

• Took Miss Corolla to the mechanic and had her interior door handles fixed. Both the driver and passenger side door handles broke off. About a year ago now. And let me tell you, just getting in the car and opening the door with a handle instead of the complicated hand-out-the-window routine is a JOY. A sheer joy, people. I also fixed her brake lights, which "I swear, officer, I had no idea they were out! Or that license plate light! Who knew?"
  I don't know why, but doing something like taking my car in seems the very epitome of grown-up responsibility to me. I get the same feeling from buying stamps and having them on hand when somebody needs one.
  
• Made it through those two Netflix movies we've had sitting there since 08/04/09.
  Boy, that "Man on Wire" was a nailbiter, huh? I mean, even though the guy was sitting there narrating, so you know he didn't plunge to his death or or anything, it was crazy tense. And what a character. Totally "bat-sheet-crazee" as the French would say, but tres entertaining. And, by the way, does he have family money? How was this 20-something guy flying all over the world with his tightrope and entourage? Good flick.
  "25th Hour", a Spike Lee joint was meh. Good to see A-Paq with dark hair again, but really more of a mood piece than anything else. I was hoping for a little more resolution. And isn't Philip Seymour Hoffman just so greasy in everything? Yes, great thespian and all that, but he just looks like he always has halitosis and a proclivity to touch himself inappropriately mid-sentence. Also, Ed Norton.
  
• Finally left Etsy feedback on my recently received item.
  My first Etsy purchase was fraught with drama. The package didn't initially arrive, and the tracking said it made it to NY and then it disappeared. Then the seller was mid-move, so I emailed and didn't get an immediate response and figured I'd just been ROBBED BY THE INTERNETZ. Of course, everything worked out in the end and I absolutely love my little bird necklace. Her shop is temporarily closed, but please do go check out Joanna Rutter's work here for major cuteness if you're going through a big avian love affair like I am. A+++, will do business again.
  
• Bathed my dog and bought all manner of pet supplies at the pet-store, including Advantage, which, holy shit, you want $65 for?
  Leland does not like getting a bath. He stands there and shivers, all while looking up at you in a very resigned manner and with a face that says "Ladies and gentlemen, I implore you!". It's heartbreaking.  Then the head to tail shaking for 30 minutes thereafter is quite the production too. So, that's actually an accomplishment when we get him clean. Who knew he had a pink belly?
  
• Organized and made reservations for a group of us to attend this.
  Now, sure, making restaurant reservations is not that complicated but let me tell you, I had to first get everyone to agree to a plan, commit to a time, and actually follow through on going. Then it was sold out, so I ended up on the wait list, and had to call twice to get in. I'm exhausted and I haven't even had to get all Top Chef on anything yet.

Now, here is a partial list of things other people did that make my list (and yours) look completely ridiculous and made me sad:

• Obama salutes fallen soldiers
  Look, I understand this was just a gesture. A small one at that, but one of the things that truly resonated with me about Obama on the campaign trail was I really felt that he never portrayed himself as having all the answers. I liked how he held us all responsible for the State of America in his inaugural speech, and didn't make it seem like he knew how to change everything. At the end of the day, this was 18 families (out of thousands more, I know) that will not have their loved ones with them for Thanksgiving, for another Christmas, and I've got to imagine that at least one of those families is wondering what it was all for. To have the President acknowledge their loss and salute those soldiers in the pre-dawn whipping wind hopefully lends an air of dignity to their sacrifice and lets their loved ones know they mattered. That they still mater. To hear the President acknowledge that this affects his thoughts about sending 40,000 more troops to Afghanistan makes me feel heartened that we're seeing a real person who doesn't always know the right way to proceed, but will pause and consider before moving forward.
  
• A 15 year old speaks up and grows up faster than she should have to
  The utter tragedy of the Richmond High gang rape has been covered by many people far more eloquently than I ever could, but hearing school officials say things like "We'll redouble our efforts to ensure that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated." and hearing the Aunt of one of the suspects say "There is no way in hell I will see my nephew blamed in this because he is black." is just so indescribably wrong that it leaves me reeling. Seeing the 15 year old friend of the victim slam the school districtin the video above like she did hopefully means that the community is rallying around  starting a groundswell to eradicate crimes like this in Richmond, and everywhere else.

• Matthew Weiner created and writes for Mad Men
  Oh that Matthew Weiner! He's awesome. Mad Men is magic. If you're not watching it, you're missing out.

They're now saying the bridge will be closed over the weekend, so we'll see how next week goes. Until then, Happy Halloween!!

Eau de Icy/Hot

I managed to get back on that horse this morning and haul myself out of bed for a workout. I had a big weekend this past Saturday (yes, I crammed an entire weekend into Saturday.), and Sunday was spent lying around examining some bad choices made on Saturday (drinking Sauvignon Blanc at an outdoor festival? switching to Chardonnay when the Sauvignon Blanc ran out? not eating anything other than Mac & Cheese all day? (that one not such a bad choice, as it turns out), continuing to post-party after Treasure Island? Trying to jump rope in my  kitchen at 9:00pm? Really, self? Really? We should so know better.) and generally feeling lethargic and gross. By 10:00pm Sunday it just didn't seem feasible that I'd be able to get out of bed at 5:40am and go work out. It was not feasible, as it turns out. It seems I missed a quite horrific workout too. The words "pyramids" and "military" were thrown around in this morning's post-mortem. So, it seems like bad decision Saturday was maybe followed up by good-decision Monday after all.

My guilt at not working out on Monday was somewhat assuaged by this weird pain in my knee. Weird in that I would go to stand up, and my right leg would basically just bend backwards at the knee, sending approximately a kajillion volts of pain through my body. Weird, huh?  Anyway, this has been a sporadic problem ever since, which is definitely not good when you're stepping off the train and (hypothetically, H/BF!) trying to return the smile of a not-unattractive male, but instead of smiling, your leg shoots backwards in an ungainly fashion and you grimace in pain, all while mouthing some words rated for mature content, violence and some sexual situations.

I don't think there's anything seriously wrong with my knee (OMG! I so tore my PCL!! OMG! Probably liquid bone syndrome!!) but it's just brought home to me that if I had started working out years ago I'd probably be through this painful period right now. All the aches and pains that come along with using muscle groups never accessed before would probably now be a thing of the past, or I'd at least have a better grasp of what's "normal" for me, and what should have me rushing to see the liquid bone syndrome specialist.

As it turns out, my knee held all through my workout this morning, which is a blessing and a curse when you can't see through the sheets of sweat running down your face, and can't effectively wipe them because you're wearing boxing gloves. Another brutal workout. We did plenty of boxing and then got to "rest" with an extended abs session. So now my right shoulder hurts when I do anything too physical. You know, like pull up my jeans, or reach across my body, or carry my purse. At least when I wasn't working out, nothing hurt. When nothing hurt I felt youthful and able-bodied, and maybe a little mushy around the edges. Now I feel decrepit and sore and, hey! you kids get the hell off my lawn! But please pass the Icy/Hot before you go.

Shaq knows!

Says it all really....

Umm, yeah. Did not work out on Monday. Tomorrow is Wednesday and once more into the breach, dear friends.....

Workout Week in Review: Week 4*

You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen a "Rocky" movie all the way through, but whenever I try to search for something that adequately expresses the way I feel on a Friday with another week of working out behind me, the theme song involuntarily starts in my head and images like this seem to sum it up better than I ever could:

I look like this after every workout. Minus the flag. And the..oh you get it.

Seriously, somehing about the sweat, the beaten down but victorious aura, and the slightly brain-damaged look just encapsulate the agony that is working out better than any lengthy diatribe could. But get ready for a lengthy diatribe anyway.

I must say, Week 4* was my week *pats self on back* . I mean, I OWNED those stupid workouts this week. I don't know if it was the time off last week, or the fact that I've been at this now for a whole month (and a few days, but let's not get technical), or the fact that Dmitri told me when I first met him that I'd be able to do a push-up within a month, but this week saw a return to extreme soreness after each workout, gallons of sweat and steam exuded and marginal noticeable improvements.

Today a whopping 6 of us showed up. Showed up and were "beaten by the fitness stick" as Kelly put it. Ouch. I won't bore you with the details but just imagine much gnashing of teeth, rending of limbs and wailing. Not to mention the other 5 girls (ba dum bum! Thank you! I'm here all week folks!...). Seriously, it was yet another circuit involving pain and burpees and weighted squats and push presses and sprints and weighted lunges and kettle bells and then...hopscotch. That's right! They've destroyed jump rope for me, and now they're slowly working their way through all of my other childhood enjoyments. What's next? Hula hoops? Affixing Care Bears in a weight belt around me? Making me stay in a consistent squat by putting me in an ALF costume? When does it end?

    What you didn't know is that ALF had GREAT glutes

Anyway, I figured I'd start my circuit with hopscotch, because IT'S HOPSCOTCH! I mean, I did this for hours as a child. And then I'd go and jump rope all the way home. How hard can it be? Well, not so hard. The first time through on one leg. Moderately harder the second and third, and by the fourth you're just weeping for the 8 year old self who hopscotched the day away with nary a care or aching hamstring in the world. There's a scene in this epically underrated cinematic masterpiece , where Zac Efron (le sigh) has just been transported back into his significantly hotter 17 year old self's body (sorry Matt Per. We had some good times. We'll always have "The Whole Nine Yards", where, by the way, Bruce Willis was much hotter than you also. Sowwy! Guess that's your lot), and he's flying around the basketball court and jumping and being all athletic and he stops and comments "We are all in such good shape". Well, you said a mouthful mister. I know my 8 year old self would have been ashamed to see me stopping before each turn, panting like a wildebeest, and, the horror, completely missing the ring I was supposed to land in sometimes. Now, in my defense, hopscotch is played in squares and these were circles we were supposed to be hopping through, but all the same, small consolation, no?

On a positive note, from there I surprised myself by doing some complicated lifting of weights while in a plank position, having "perfect form" on my squats when a kettlebell was forcing me lower to the ground than I ever wanted to go, not falling while sprinting, and being told my burpees were "looking better". This was a good week.

Grade for  Week 4* : You know, I'm just going to go ahead and put it out there. An A. That's right. I aced it this week. Showed up every day, pushed myself, saw some improvements (back fat possibly diminishing? Maybe? Becoming overall less mushy? Possibly.), was achy like nobody's business (because the pain means I'm doing it right! Lactic acid buildup FTW!) and also, my level of complaining while working out has maybe gotten a little better.

Good job, Leah! Now go forth and enjoy date night with H/BF tonight, listen to music and drink wine on Treasure Island tomorrow and maybe get a little "Where the Wild things Are" in there for good measure. You all do the same! Or, you know, your version of a fun weekend.

Storm of the century, Eye of the tiger......

How about that rain yesterday, huh? As I was walking to BART in the downpour and then sitting at my desk with soaked feet and a bad attitude, I was secretly plotting my absence from boot camp today. I mean, no way this torrential downpour would be over by this morning, right? Might as well all settle in for a long wet spell!! And while we all enjoy a good Rocky montage with him running through the rain and drinking raw eggs, I think we all agree that's for people of a far heartier constitution than myself. I just got a pedicure for Christ's sake!!

So, it was with a tear in my eye and bitterness in my heart that I woke up at 3:00am this morning to no comforting plinking of rain outside my window. Still no rain at 5:40. Annoying. I dressed and hied myself over to Berkeley. Today's class also featured a small group, allowing me to immediately feel morally superior to all of the people who didn't make it to class, and isn't that the main point of exercise? To win? Even if the winning is accomplished by virtue of people NOT doing something. Just by showing up, I'm already ahead. And when you still can't do a full push-up, you take whatever small slice of the victory pie you can. Here, read this; She gets it.

This morning's workout was kind of surreal. Because there were so few of us, we were able to work out in the little studio where all of the equipment/torture devices are stored. It's basically a cute little innocuous looking barn from the outside, but inside it's filled with all kinds of weird stuff and has ropes and chains and weight bags (?!? ummm, boxing bags maybe? Weight bags seems wrong. Oh, wait; Lord Google informs me it is indeed a "boxing bag".One of these things.) hanging from the ceiling.

Which is all great and very gym-like. Until you have 10 profusely sweating people in there. Combine that with the frigid air coming in from outside and all of a sudden you're in a humid little barn with eddies of steam and sweat rising and swirling, giving a very "Gorillas in the Mist" like feeling. No? Was I alone in that comparison? See, this is yet another screwed up part about exercise. Your body just takes over. Now, I've heard a ton of people like this side-effect. Quiet the mind and all that. It is very primal, being able to hear your heart pounding in your ears as you try not to throw up or pass out,  I'll give it that. And I can see the allure, but when your mind has enjoyed a lifetime of reading and being hyperactive and very imaginative, your body taking over sometimes causes you to go all kinds of weird places. As I lay there doing ab work (so much ab work. So hard. So sob-inducing), looking at the pretty grey paint on the ceiling and the hooks and ropes and various trinkets and whatnots dangling above, as my breath streamed all around me and dawn was just breaking (or maybe my vision was tunneling due to the abs workout. My God, the abs) I immediately thought of Victorian London and darkened alleys where Jack the Ripper lies in wait. My body's working so hard just to keep me alive, my mind is roaming all over the place thinking about whether I'd be able to fight off Jack the Ripper now that I've been lifting weights? MESSED UP, right!?!?! What do you think about when you work out?

Working out in Ye Olde London

But hey, at least it's not raining anymore! And Week 4* is almost done. I WIN!

It's been a week already? Really?.....

Like sands through the hourglass...I can't believe it's been a whole week since I last posted. Since my last boot camp class. Since, well, since last Monday. Where did it go? I'll tell you where. It went on a very delayed, very early flight to Shreveport, LA. Then it went to a hotel/casino in Bossier City, LA where I ate fried chicken and  gumbo and fell asleep without spending a dime in the casino, which just felt wrong. From there, next stop was a client meeting in Minden, LA, then a 4 hour road trip to yet another casino/hotel in Baton Rouge. Another blown opportunity to spend money gambling. It's like I don't even want to help LA recover economically. Then a dinner of crawfish etouffee accompanied by the worlds dirtiest martini, so briny it shrivelled my tastebuds to nothing and prevented me from drinking further with the hordes of Gator fans in town for the LSU v FL game (a quick aside: Southerners really know how to obsess over, lose their collective shit for, support a football team. Our meeting on Friday morning entailed us driving past the LSU campus. The campus that was already a hive of tailgating and pep-rallying and general good-timing. At 8:30am. A FULL DAY before the game was even due to start. Everybody at the jobsite we went to inspect was wearing purple and fervently praying that Tim Tebow wouldn't be allowed to play the next day, you know, because they were concerned for his future health, not because they're scared of Jesus Tebow and his ability to walk on water or anything.) Next stop; New Orleans and a hotel that was just a hotel, but conveniently located next to Harrah's (nope! still no gambling). Two successful meetings later we were ready for some wine and dinner at NOLA, where I enjoyed some chargrilled oysters and shrimp and grits. All delicious, yet all rendered less enjoyable by the ear-splitting decibels in the restaurant. Why for so noisy, Emeril? Now, before I mention how we also had lunch at Acme Oyster House and I had the most disgusting, fat-laden thing on the menu, and proceeded to hover over my plate and devour it like I was in prison, I'd like to state for the record that I worked out on Thursday. That's right. A solid showing that left me covered in sweat and feeling virtuous. These career women! We really can do it all! I even worked some lunges and squats in there. Because I'm nothing if not dedicated to my fitness regimen. And fatty deliciousness. Ahem.

So, in light of delayed flights, and time zone differences, and client meetings, and three hotels and four cities in three days, and boo fries and oysters slathered in cheese-oops!, I'm declaring the Workout Week In Review: Week 4, canceled and moved to this week. This will now become "Week 4*" (and I didn't even need Marc Ecko to help make that decision).

Week 4 arrived early this morning and brought with it a whole new challenge-TOTAL DARKNESS. At first I thought this would be good because they wouldn't be able to see my tears, but mentally the extra darkness took a toll for some reason. I mean, I know it's early, but now it's early, dark and cold? That just seems so arduous. Also, this morning we did three sets of everything on our circuit, but we stayed at one station for all three sets, which is different to how we usually do it. Again, there were murmurings of how that seemed even harder than normal, because let me tell you, that first set of push-presses is no big deal, but by the time you've interspersed them with weighted squats and you're on round three of push-presses, your (and by "your" I mean "my") arms are quivering in a way you didn't know was possible. It's as if your entire arm has liquified internally and all that's keeping you going is the desire to not give that bastard "House" an idea for a show. (Not that he actually chooses the ideas or writes the show or anything, but you take whatever motivation comes to you when you're trying to re-solidify your arms. Did I mention it was dark? And cold?)

I didn't really plan ahead, and so my last station was ab-work. Whew! Glad that's done. Now I'll go pick up my water bottle and..... CRAP, do more ab work with the group. Gross, gross, gross. Then we were done. It was light out, and I got to my car and actually thought to myself (WARNING: dangerous and bad mataphors ahead) "Wow. You know, this whole dark to light and cold to hot thing really works as a metaphor for working out. You start in darkness and oh, today's Columbus Day and that was a voyage of discovery and......" Then,  all of a sudden the car became filled with the most incredibly sweet smell of my life and I thought "Ahhhh, working out hasn't actually rendered me retarded; I'm having a stroke. That explains everything". I quickly self-performed the three tests indicating a stroke, think I passed and then sailed home, thanks to no traffic whatsoever. Enjoy your day off Government and State Employees! And  lo, Week 4* has begun.

How lazy is she??.......

Well, so lazy I totally flaked on posting my "Workout Week in Review: Week 3" on Friday. Here's what it would have said: Monday we ran. That was unpleasant. Wednesday we boxed. That was unpleasant. Friday I didn't make it to bootcamp, so, for anyone keeping track, with three weeks of bootcamp under my belt, there have been 2 where I've missed one day. Stellar record!! And feeling guilty about it is almost as good as actually exercising, right? I must clarify and say that it wasn't sheer laziness this time. I was down with the sickness last week, people. It was bad. About yearly I get a flare-up of diverticulitis (me and Grace Slick and John Cleese apparently! Thank you, Wiki! No more hiding in shame for me.), and wow. Just wow. The searing and blinding pain, the inability to stand up straight, the nausea, the total loss of appetite (let's silver lining this!) and resulting weakness all contributed to my inability to get up at 5:40 and even contemplate doing crunches. Or you know, walking.

I've had diverticulosis for years now, and have flirted with some holistic ways of lessening flare-ups as recommended by my nutritionist. For me, going gluten free has always helped me feel better. Less bloated. Less blah. Just better. BUT I have to say, that when you're gluten-free you miss out on a lot of good stuff.

So bad. So good.. And, bread? I'll miss you most of all.  

Anyway, this latest flare-up was actually good in a way because it reminded me that while sandwiches may be OH SO GOOD, working out and then eating a vat of mayonnaise on bread/pizza/cheeseburgers/burritos the size of my head just won't work for me. Or probably anyone for that matter, but especially me. So, in a way, this was a good wake-up call that while exercising will definitely help, eating right has to be a component too. BO-RING, but true and I was fighting it. Believe me, noone more fervently hoped that I'd be the one person who could exercise three times a week while eating a cheesecake and see the lbs fall off as I toned.  Fortuitously, last Wednesday a Whole Foods opened in my neighborhood (btw, I'm all for healthcare for everyone, and I saw that jackass Whole Foods CEO compare universal healthcare to giving people free access to wine and having them all buy the $300 bottle instead of the $7 bottle, just because it's available. That makes sense. Yeah, like people would really be like "Hmmm. Heart surgery sounds good. BECAUSE I CAN! mwah hah hah". But anyway, my point is, he's a douchehat obviously, but..... fresh produce! Delightful hot food items! Cheeses as far as the eye can see! Gluten-free produce for aisles. I wish I could quit you WF, but I'm in the throes of a deep and powerful crush right now so, no boycott for me. If someone else could boycott on my behalf, that'd be great) so the eating right has been made more convenient (again, LAZY people. So lazy. Do not underestimate me) and I'm committing to going Gluten-Free again and increasing fruit and veggies and protein and blah de blah de blah.

This morning I did manage to get back on track and get up at 5:40 in the freezing cold and walk 20 miles uphill in the snow with no shoes....and, oh no, wait....that wasn't me. This morning's workout (only 10 of us showed up-I already win, right?) consisted of warmups and then 4 times around a circuit with all kinds of fresh hell built in. I got trapped and disoriented in my sweater at one point when I was trying to take it off, and I thought I'd just been raptured. Being in heaven with a bunch of goody-two-shoes sounded better than doing any more squat thrusts with weights. I'm hopeful one day soon that won't be the case anymore.

Anyway, we finish our circuit and I was appalled to see we still had 20 minutes left. I know you can see this one coming, but I'd just like to point out that we had TWENTY straight minutes of ab work. Ab work that left us all crying, (by "us all" I mean me), had some people leaving mid-way, had Dmitri even exclaiming that Kelly was killing us, had us joking about throwing up. Yes, that's what my life has come to. I joke about throwing up from physical exertion now. Never saw that one coming.

In review, week 3 gets a solid C again. Week 4 is off to a good start, but I'm traveling for work and will miss both Wednesday and Friday so I've committed to working out on the road. You know, running up 5 flights of stairs 10 times as Dmitri told me. Basic stuff like that. EASY.

Also, a play at home portion: H/BF seems to be coming down with a cold. I forced him to stay home this morning. What do you think about working out when sick? Push through the pain/sneezes/hacking cough, or give your body time to recover? You tell me!