Considering I didn't make it to the gym over the weekend and neglected to do the same on Monday night (though I did do some exercise at home, including a 1.75 mile walk) I really feel the need to make up for lost work out time. Plus it's been a million and a half years since I swam (that's not even a slight exaggeration) and with all the hot weather lately, I've had a hankering to get in the pool. Side note: what the heck kind of word is 'hankering'?
I head over about forty five minutes before my scheduled training session, knowing that time will be sucked up by changing into and out of my swimsuit and what not. Apparently there's a water aerobics class that is about to start because there are old people as far as the eye can see. That and the number of available lanes have been cut down to three and I have to wait because all three are filled. I don't know if I left enough time in my schedule to wait for a lane to become available. It's made even worse by the face that one of the lanes is taken up by a man who has no business swimming because he is awful at it.
So I sit and I sulk. I've become very good at sulking, lately. I like to think it makes me look intimidating and I will maybe scare someone out of one of the lanes if I look angry enough. The problem is I can never maintain my sulkiness because a wonderful pleasant woman (after making three laps in the pool) asks if I'm waiting for a lane. I am, I reply, my scowl instantly morphing into a giant smile. She offers me her lane because all she has left to do is stretch on the stairs in the pool and her lane melds with the stairs. Thank you so much! That's so kind of you.Truthfully, I am a giant softy at heart. There's no way I can actually continue to be mean.
I should probably even take back that nasty thing I said about the gentleman who can't swim, because I didn't exactly look like an expert my first time back in the pool in several months. Eventually I find my rhythm and can at least survive. I even lap the other two that are in the pool, making me feel like an exceptionally good swimmer.
Let me tell you why swimming is annoying and why I have so much respect for swimmers. Swimming is, near as I can tell, the only form of exercise where you are actively holding your breath while you are exerting energy. In all of my now vast experience with exercise, breathing is a huge part of it. There is a rhythm to breathing in swimming, but it's not as simple as breath in during eccentric movements and exhale during concentric movements (yes, I had to look that up, so what?).
After the pool, I head to the cardio room to do my session and wait for Justin to retrieve me. We do more bench presses, and step ups (a first for my sessions) and I have to do all my hovering from the floor. During the rotation, I find myself getting into an argument with Justin about him being kind of sneaky. It all starts because he has swapped our Tuesday time to 7:00 instead of 6:30. Not a big deal, but I made an offhand comment about it and he got a little defensive. Then, when I'm doing the bench pressing he is several numbers ahead of me in reps. I only counted seven and he thinks I'm on eight. That, to me, sounds like a ploy to make me think I'm doing better than I actually am. Is this a thing? Do trainer's do this? Does he also pretend I've been planking for a minute when it's only been thirty seconds and that's why I have such a hard time planking for a full minute when I'm at home?! It's a conspiracy, similar to what happens whenever I take art classes. I always think I'm doing an amazing job when I'm in the art room, but if I take it home, it's like my talent was not aware that it was supposed to come with me.
Somehow, after our debate about this issue and me insisting that I get a full half hour I end up on Justin's "Drop-kick list" which actually exists. Go ahead and try to lift me up and drop kick me. I would be quite impressed. We end with curl presses and side hovers (which are more awful than regular hovers) and Justin challenging me to give him one full month where I go to the gym five days a week between sessions and classes. He seems to think it will be my best month ever. We'll see how that actually turns out. By the way, Thursday is a measurement day.
Showing posts with label swimming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label swimming. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Stabbing...
My life has been hectic and outrageously busy, lately. That may be a slight exaggeration, but it certainly has felt that way. I have had no spare time and my fitness habits have suffered. Take Sunday, for example. I just bought the new Tomb Raider game and I had to tear myself away from the TV so that I could get my workout in before I had to go to the movies (where I bought a grossly unhealthy amount of candy). I will say, however, that I had great success at the gym.
Fit Andrew and I decide that if we are going to reward ourselves with a movie that we had better punish ourselves for an unknown crime by going to the gym. My gym clothes are dirty and currently in the wash so my only option is to swim. The only horrible possibility is that I am going during family swim and there exists a strong possibility that the pool will be infested with children splashing around and laughing. Keep your joy to yourself you bratty kids. Thankfully I arrive to a near-empty pool and only have to deal with two children who don't seem to be enjoying themselves.
After my swim on Thursday I'm feeling incredibly motivated to perform well and try to shave my time down. After my one warm up lap, I shoot for intervals of 50 seconds instead of the minute I had last time. I have to say I am amazing during this swim. 50 second intervals are fine and I'm able to go consecutively from lap to lap with no periods of rest in between. My time probably fluctuates and I don't pay as close attention as I should, but I'm able to maintain exertion, which is more than I've ever been able to do.
This is what I have found (are you ready to be hit with a profound realization?): If I push past the point where I think I can't continue anymore, I can do significantly more than I would have thought possible. Eventually the laps become easy (I use that loosely. It does still require work). My body gets used to the amount of energy I need to complete each lap and I fall into a rhythm. This is truly fascinating to me. Do other people experience this too? I think of how many times I quit something because I thought I was too tired to go on and realize I probably could have kept going and been better off for it.
In no time, I swim a full half mile and it feels great to be a success. I go the rest of the day feeling skinny (which is super weird) and energetic for the week ahead. But that energy is zapped incredibly quickly because I hate daylight savings time. The next morning I wake up groggy and out of it and I feel hazy all day. The haze lingers through to the following day when I have personal training and I am not happy about it. On top of that, I lose my headphones AGAIN.
I get to the gym and warm up and when Justin finds me, I give him what I consider to be fair warning. 'I'm grumpy and I hate everything.' His response? He laughs because he's a jerk. But my animosity softens because he's actually a really nice and encouraging gentleman. Honestly, hire him as your trainer and he will make you think you're awesome. Today he teaches me deadlifts (sad that I have to be taught something that I think I should already know). I do that and the cursed rope for four sets, during which Justin tells me that I'm doing a great job with a rope that was heavier than when I first did the rope six months ago.
After my sets, we go to the cardio room and he teaches me some exercise with the dumbbells and an inclined weight bench that works my chest. I basically clapped like a dolphin or a seal with twenty-pound weights in my hands. Then he has me do thirty sit ups.
Now, I never really understood the concept of a group of muscles being on fire and I have to say I still don't. Justin makes a comment during my sit ups and if my abs aren't on fire that I'm doing something wrong. They don't feel like they are on fire. I feel like I am being stabbed repeatedly in the midsection. It's painful and not like when I touch a hot pan or something. Like literal stabbing. It's one of the worst feeling I have ever felt.
I forgo the post-strength training cardio workout, instead opting to head home and shower and spend the remainder of my night playing video games because that's how I roll. And may be why I have rolls. I'm just now making that connection. Hm. Curious.
Fit Andrew and I decide that if we are going to reward ourselves with a movie that we had better punish ourselves for an unknown crime by going to the gym. My gym clothes are dirty and currently in the wash so my only option is to swim. The only horrible possibility is that I am going during family swim and there exists a strong possibility that the pool will be infested with children splashing around and laughing. Keep your joy to yourself you bratty kids. Thankfully I arrive to a near-empty pool and only have to deal with two children who don't seem to be enjoying themselves.
After my swim on Thursday I'm feeling incredibly motivated to perform well and try to shave my time down. After my one warm up lap, I shoot for intervals of 50 seconds instead of the minute I had last time. I have to say I am amazing during this swim. 50 second intervals are fine and I'm able to go consecutively from lap to lap with no periods of rest in between. My time probably fluctuates and I don't pay as close attention as I should, but I'm able to maintain exertion, which is more than I've ever been able to do.
This is what I have found (are you ready to be hit with a profound realization?): If I push past the point where I think I can't continue anymore, I can do significantly more than I would have thought possible. Eventually the laps become easy (I use that loosely. It does still require work). My body gets used to the amount of energy I need to complete each lap and I fall into a rhythm. This is truly fascinating to me. Do other people experience this too? I think of how many times I quit something because I thought I was too tired to go on and realize I probably could have kept going and been better off for it.
In no time, I swim a full half mile and it feels great to be a success. I go the rest of the day feeling skinny (which is super weird) and energetic for the week ahead. But that energy is zapped incredibly quickly because I hate daylight savings time. The next morning I wake up groggy and out of it and I feel hazy all day. The haze lingers through to the following day when I have personal training and I am not happy about it. On top of that, I lose my headphones AGAIN.
I get to the gym and warm up and when Justin finds me, I give him what I consider to be fair warning. 'I'm grumpy and I hate everything.' His response? He laughs because he's a jerk. But my animosity softens because he's actually a really nice and encouraging gentleman. Honestly, hire him as your trainer and he will make you think you're awesome. Today he teaches me deadlifts (sad that I have to be taught something that I think I should already know). I do that and the cursed rope for four sets, during which Justin tells me that I'm doing a great job with a rope that was heavier than when I first did the rope six months ago.
After my sets, we go to the cardio room and he teaches me some exercise with the dumbbells and an inclined weight bench that works my chest. I basically clapped like a dolphin or a seal with twenty-pound weights in my hands. Then he has me do thirty sit ups.
Now, I never really understood the concept of a group of muscles being on fire and I have to say I still don't. Justin makes a comment during my sit ups and if my abs aren't on fire that I'm doing something wrong. They don't feel like they are on fire. I feel like I am being stabbed repeatedly in the midsection. It's painful and not like when I touch a hot pan or something. Like literal stabbing. It's one of the worst feeling I have ever felt.
I forgo the post-strength training cardio workout, instead opting to head home and shower and spend the remainder of my night playing video games because that's how I roll. And may be why I have rolls. I'm just now making that connection. Hm. Curious.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Twice...
My plan is to go to Pilates after work so I pack up all my workout gear and head to work. Pilates doesn't start until 5:30, but I prefer to be prepared in case something comes up. But, I get all the way to work and realize that I have left my mat at home. Not the end of the world because they have mats at the gym, but still, totally not ideal.
I've also made plans to workout with another friend after Pilates around 8 o'clock. So in theory, I'll be going to the gym twice in one day. IN. ONE. DAY. Yeah, crazy I know, but apparently I can't get enough. The gym is like drugs. The only thing I've been this obsessed about is cookie dough, and heavens knows that was not a healthy habit. I'm addicted to fitness.
Work ends and I drive home. And I get home around 4:50. That leaves me forty minutes until Pilates starts. Holy crap I think I planned ahead too much. I have to now waste time at home before I go. So, I check my email, read Yahoo news, amuse myself with reddit and squeeze in (or out) a last minute poop. Then I grab my mat and head to Pilates.
I meet Megan at the gym but I have to run downstairs and change and when I come back up, everyone is already in the room with spots chosen so I have to plant myself in the worst possible location: smack dab in front of the door. Thank goodness everyone walking past is going to be able to look in and see my chubby self sweating and struggling through this class.
It's another new teacher, today. But Beth is great because she's kind of self deprecating and brings great humor to the class. She also starts off by giving everyone permission to rest when they need to, which makes me feel reassured. I'm still embarrassed to drop a pose simply because my muscles aren't strong enough, but I shouldn't expect to be really great at Pilates after only four classes.
After class, I change and on my way out I run into Justin. We chat for a few minutes and he chastises me for using the calf machine because I'm working out one of the smallest muscles in my body. My response is that I have no idea what I'm doing. And then he drops a pearl of wisdom. "There are two types of people that need personal trainers: those with the motivation who have no idea what to do, and those who know what to do but have no motivation." So if you are one of those types of people, join a gym and get a personal trainer.
I say goodbye to Carla and tell her that I might be back later tonight. At home I relax on the couch and watch TV, deciding I will not be going back to the gym. But my last episode of Don't Trust the B in Apartment 23 ends right at 8:00 and so I force myself to return to the gym and hit the pool.
I'm bound and determined to swim at least half a mile, tonight. I check the info board on my way in to see how many lengths of the pool I have to do. 1 mile is 82 lengths of the pool, so that means I have to do 41 lengths to reach my goal of half a mile. I do 12 lengths of freestyle, 10 using the kick board, 10 of backstroke, 6 more of freestyle, 2 more with the kickboard, and finally 2 more of backstroke. Essentially I feel like jelly when I'm done.
I chill in the steam room for a good 6 minutes (progress!) where I meet a very interesting individual who used to be a body-builder, but an injury forced him to stop training and he's just started coming back to the gym. I prefer silence when I'm in the presence of strangers in a steam room, but if you feel the need to talk, more power to you.
I've also made plans to workout with another friend after Pilates around 8 o'clock. So in theory, I'll be going to the gym twice in one day. IN. ONE. DAY. Yeah, crazy I know, but apparently I can't get enough. The gym is like drugs. The only thing I've been this obsessed about is cookie dough, and heavens knows that was not a healthy habit. I'm addicted to fitness.
Work ends and I drive home. And I get home around 4:50. That leaves me forty minutes until Pilates starts. Holy crap I think I planned ahead too much. I have to now waste time at home before I go. So, I check my email, read Yahoo news, amuse myself with reddit and squeeze in (or out) a last minute poop. Then I grab my mat and head to Pilates.
I meet Megan at the gym but I have to run downstairs and change and when I come back up, everyone is already in the room with spots chosen so I have to plant myself in the worst possible location: smack dab in front of the door. Thank goodness everyone walking past is going to be able to look in and see my chubby self sweating and struggling through this class.
It's another new teacher, today. But Beth is great because she's kind of self deprecating and brings great humor to the class. She also starts off by giving everyone permission to rest when they need to, which makes me feel reassured. I'm still embarrassed to drop a pose simply because my muscles aren't strong enough, but I shouldn't expect to be really great at Pilates after only four classes.
After class, I change and on my way out I run into Justin. We chat for a few minutes and he chastises me for using the calf machine because I'm working out one of the smallest muscles in my body. My response is that I have no idea what I'm doing. And then he drops a pearl of wisdom. "There are two types of people that need personal trainers: those with the motivation who have no idea what to do, and those who know what to do but have no motivation." So if you are one of those types of people, join a gym and get a personal trainer.
I say goodbye to Carla and tell her that I might be back later tonight. At home I relax on the couch and watch TV, deciding I will not be going back to the gym. But my last episode of Don't Trust the B in Apartment 23 ends right at 8:00 and so I force myself to return to the gym and hit the pool.
I'm bound and determined to swim at least half a mile, tonight. I check the info board on my way in to see how many lengths of the pool I have to do. 1 mile is 82 lengths of the pool, so that means I have to do 41 lengths to reach my goal of half a mile. I do 12 lengths of freestyle, 10 using the kick board, 10 of backstroke, 6 more of freestyle, 2 more with the kickboard, and finally 2 more of backstroke. Essentially I feel like jelly when I'm done.
Yes, yes I am.
I chill in the steam room for a good 6 minutes (progress!) where I meet a very interesting individual who used to be a body-builder, but an injury forced him to stop training and he's just started coming back to the gym. I prefer silence when I'm in the presence of strangers in a steam room, but if you feel the need to talk, more power to you.
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