I still want it. Haven’t given up. It’s time to get real.
Click here to see all of my LGN (I want to Look Good Naked) posts.
I’m not really taking a kettlebell class. I thought I was. Turns out I’m not. Or it’s not anything like I thought it would be. One reason for that is because I decided to do the semi-personal training. By “semi”, I mean that there are three people, each doing their own program, at the same time in different areas of the gym. I think it’s the best of both worlds. You get the camaraderie of suffering/improving with other people but you also get personal attention, correction and motivation. Motivation as in, “Come on, Gary! Get up! Ten more seconds!”
It’s much more than kettlebells. Actually, I haven’t touched a kettlebell yet and I’m kind of disappointed about that. Monday was the first real session. Dumbbells, big ol’ rope, medicine ball, face pull, incline pull up machine. Well, this, more or less:
Set 1: 12 x 70 lbs
Set 2: 12 x 70 lbs
Set 3: 12 x 70 lbs
Set 1: 12 x 25 lbs
Set 2: 12 x 30 lbs
Set 3: 12 x 30 lbs
Set 1: 12 x 6.6 lbs
Set 2: 10 x 6.6 lbs
Set 1: 12 x 30 lbs
Set 2: 12 x 30 lbs
Set 3: 12 x 30 lbs
Set 1: 12 x 40 lbs
Set 2: 12 x 45 lbs
Set 3: 12 x 45 lbs
Of course, that doesn’t include the circuit. The three of us, two womenfolk and myself — one of them wants us to have nicknames and wants to call me Pooh Bear — circulated around three stations. Plank, big rope, burpees. Twenty seconds each. A long ass twenty seconds. Then on to the next station for twenty seconds and so on. I was worn out by this time. Got through them. Was so ready to pack it in and Justin said, “Okay. One more circuit.”
And then Nausea walked in the room and greeted me by name. It wasn’t too bad. Well, it was, but you know. That’s part of the game. Just have to eat smarter next time and get my head in the game.
Have you ever seen the movie “Gattaca”? A sci fi movie about a society with genetically engineered people? The protagonist, Vincent (played by Ethan Hawke), his parents chose to not have him altered when he was born. They didn’t want to tamper with nature. But his life was hard and other kids were so far ahead of him in their physical and intellectual perfection that they had their younger son genetically modified.
The two brothers would go to the beach or a lake and swim out as far as they could, racing each other. Somehow, Vincent always managed to win.
I’m not exactly sure what an IT band is, but I do know that it hurts like hell when you do the foam roller thing on it. Why is that?
When you do it on other parts of the body it feels like a deep massage. Speaking of which, how come no one told me that deep massages friggin’ hurt. Well, I never had a massage before but during the testing training session, Justin had me use one of those stick rollers on my calves. He asked me if I was feeling it and I said, “Kind of.”
He said, “Okay. Lay on the floor on your stomach.”
Then he went to work on my calves and lower legs with that roller stick. America. Ladies and gentlemen. It’s hard to describe that sensation. It’s kind of tickly but with pressure and a blunt, rounded pain. Well, not so much pain as discomfort, also known as pain. For the ticklish among you, do you know that feeling of being tickled until it starts to hurt? Like that but localized in a muscle group and distilled to a level of respectable purity.
He said, “You have a high pain tolerance. Considering how tight your lower legs are this must–”
I said, “Going to my happy place now.”
I’m kind of stupid sometimes. I went on a 6 mile hike on the same day as my first training session. I hate that frakkin’ rowing machine. My hip flexors are still killing me. What do they have to with rowing? But luckily (I think) we were doing testing and reviewing some shoulder mobility exercises that I had been doing on my own and been doing very incorrectly.
But the “tightness” section is about this past Saturday. Back to the here and now.
I am in pain
I hurt. I hurt bad.
I’m questioning whether or not to go to yoga tomorrow night. I won’t even be able to tolerate Downward Dog. On the other hand, some deliberate stretching is definitely in the cards. Oh, I wish with all my heart that I had a hot tub right now. I foresee a time when I actually succumb to a sports massage.
It’s my aero plane
My arms are killing me. Can’t move them behind my back to, say, tuck my shirt in. That motion is right out. I’m concerned with how long it’s been taking me to recover from exercise recently. Part of me wants to back off and take it easy. But I want to improve. To get better and stronger and fitter, especially now that I have help and guidance and structure.
When Vincent and his younger brother, Anton, confront each other as adults, Anton asks, “How did you manage to beat me all those times? Swimming at the lake.”
Vincent says, “You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back.”
M, Th, S
Driving home on Monday night I thought to myself, “I have to do that again?!” I mean, really. Shouldn’t you just be able to work your ass off once and start seeing results? Then a month later do it again maybe. Kind of like riding a skateboard. Kick ‘n coast. But no. I guess I do have to do it again. Three times a week. For the next three months at least.
Oy. Do I really have to take “before” pictures? Aw man. That ain’t right.
As part of the program I have to pick a punishment if I don’t meet my goal. My punishment will be, I think, having to get my ear pierced. Ugh.
So we’ll see how this goes. I’ll keep you posted.
Pooh Bear? Not, Lord Tightbod? Or Roddimus Prime, if we’re going with cartoon characters? Oh well. I guess that’s why I’m there.
Oh, by the way. You’ll see me linking to and posting things about Underground Athlete. It’s not an ad, but I want them to have the publicity they deserve. I like supporting the not mega corps, y’know. So if you’re in the Northern VA area and not too far from Fairfax, check ’em out.
Same goes for my yoga class, actually, at PIES Fitness in Alexandria. More about that next time.
Time to recuperate.