Archive for the ‘exercise’ Category

Anyone who has known me for about a year or longer probably knows that my body is jacked up. There are a lot of reasons for this, from exposure to toxins to chemotherapy to radiation to bad friggin’ familial genes, my body has always had malfunctions. But, you know, I’m still here so it’s all good.

However, I just saw my most recent blood workType_2_Nation_million_beta_cells_diabetes_meme_500px.jpg and it shows that I left pre-diabetes land and went into diabetes city.

I knew I was going to get diabetes. I have endocrine issues. I have insulin resistance. I’ve been pre-diabetic since I was a teen. This was expected even if I was working to keep it away. But when I saw the numbers I have to say I’ve been in a state of odd numbness with flashes of anger and despair.

I thought I’d have more time. (more…)

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A cynical person would count my foray to the gym today as a failure. But not me! Today was a, well, it was a warm up. And hey, I actually went, didn’t I?

I decided I’d try a cycle class today, my first day at the gym. Sadly, though, a long train and my new combination lock, which seems to have been made at Fort Knox, delayed me enough to make me three minutes late. “Pfft! 3 minutes?” you say. Well, I cruised past the class with that same idea and found that there was a butt on every cycle in the back and they were already in full pedaling glory. So, no.

Well, now I’m at the gym. In my gym clothes. Having learned the secret to my combo lock. It’d be a waste to not do something. So I head into the machine area. I decide to get my strength on. However, I neglected to heed Google’s warning that this was the second-busiest time of day and everyone is everywhere! What does an introvert do?

Well, this introvert acted as if she totally wanted to get this machine right here that was one of the few that didn’t have another person on the other side of it. So I climb up on it. I give a side-eye to the guy two machines over to get a clue as to what I’m supposed to do and try to work the thing. My feet are on steps but I’m going backward. As I look around I almost get hit with a swinging arm. Instead of stopping to see if there are instructions, I act as if my normal warm-up is to dodge swinging metal arms and just keep going. Backward. The dude isn’t going backward. So I stop. Stretch, to pretend I’m just getting prepped to dominate this machine, and then push my feet forward and up. Or down. Not sure. Ok! I figured the forward thing. But by now the machine has awakened and is demanding I choose a workout. I press a button and am relieved I’m not thrown off.

I work my ass off. I don’t know what that machine was, but my ass and thighs were dying. And it’s only been 25 seconds. At 45 seconds my legs are threatening me with a boycott if I don’t get off the machine. So I pause again, pretending to read the incomprehensible lights on the machine while begging my legs to just get to two minutes. If my legs had eyes, they’d have shot death glares at me. I start again. And I’m going backwards again. So I pretend that I’m just working different muscles while my thighs and butt scream that this was not part of the deal. I realize the jig is up and pretend that I got an important phone call that tells me that my friend is having her baby right now and I must leave my excellent workout early.

I didn’t actually talk out loud. I didn’t even have my phone. I just pretended my fitbit alerted me to a phone call and I came up with that cover story in my head. I keep up my cover story, pretending to be worried and a little annoyed at being interrupted all the way out of the room. It’s a damn shame no one was actually watching my amazing performance.

So, sure. I was in the gym for only ten minutes. And, ok, sure it took me twice that long to drive there. But I went. By myself. I got on a machine, I learned to give myself much more time before a class, and how to work my lock. I’m calling it a win. And bonus, my legs are still all jelly-like. I have gym legs. Score!

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I coulda DIED!

Well, not really. But MAYBE!

For the past couple of weeks Ive been trying to work out regularly. My style of choice right now is Zumba. I have a YouTube playlist filled with Zumba trainers who have wonderfully recorded their classes. I have about an hour-long playlist, but I’m lucky if I get to the 25 minute mark. I would just hit a wall and couldn’t go on. Head pounding, muscles barely responding, I’d drop out and be frustrated that I was so out of shape.

I bought a used heart rate monitor gadget, tried it out today, and it just kept beeping at me. I read the manual, but it wasn’t very forthcoming on what the “training sounds” meant. So I just assumed it meant I was “in the zone” and worked my ass off. In between two songs, as I was contemplating quitting at about 13 minutes in, I fiddled with the monitor and it was quite insistent that I was way past the zone. The little thing had been trilling at me to slow down! Feeling weird, I did slow down and I was able to complete 46 whole minutes of Zumba!

Turns out that it wasn’t that I was doing too little, but I was working too hard and burning myself out. (I do so love to rock the beat.) So, yeah, that little eBay extravagance was totally worth it. Makes me wonder how often that happens to people trying to start exercising and causes them to give up, thinking they are not able to workout “right.”

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