So, this last few weeks I have been forced to recognize that my lack of weight work was resulting in a resurgence of the Lunch Lady arm. Not attractive I say…I decided about two weeks ago I really needed to commit to weight work-whether crossfit or on my own. To that end, I was pretty successful last week and was looking forward to increasing my schedule this week.
Yeah, that was before Stacey tried to kill me on Monday. I was sitting at my desk, having consumed my protein shake for breakfast, when Stacey says “Hey, I brought some grilled chicken.”
“When is it from?” I ask. I am NOT a big fan of left overs.
“The other night.”
OK, warning, the “other night” can mean, apparently, and extremely large measure of time for what I consider to be acceptable for chicken. Personally, I THOUGHT she meant “the other night”- meaning Saturday when she and John grilled with some friends. Nope.
I sliced half a chicken breast and heated it in the microwave. It took about four bites for me to start feeling queasy.
“Stacey, when is this chicken from? Saturday?”
“No, from when we cooked dinner last week. Wednesday.”
AHHHHHHHHHH. I spit it out, went to the bathroom and forced my finger down my throat and hurled. And yet, I STILL have heartburn and stomach issues.
Why did Stacey try and kill me? Being honest, there are probably hundreds of reasons. Could be that I rang the bell on my desk to summon her yesterday. So, can’t blame her.
I tried to work out yesterday-even went to the gym, but even swallowing water was an effort. So, I headed home planning for this morning.
Sho and I met at the gym at 4:00 and biked for two hours. Then, I decided to do her new trainer Talon (that is his name) I decided to do Talon’s xfit workout.
Yeah, that was an error. here’s the thing, I like to do things I am successful at and as to Crossfit- I still can’t even do ONE pull up. I suck at it. Plus, it was just me and three really fit guys, which meant I was going to be last at EVERYTHING. And, apparently I have the worst lifting form in America which required poor Talon to adjust my dead lift like six times with “no, you are using all back…”
Couldn’t we just be happy my back is strong like bull?
So as I coasted to the slowest and least impressive finish of the group, I looked at my substitute trainer and said “I hate this. And I hate you.”
Hate, I realize, is a strong word. But, since I was slow, weak, nauseous and pissed off, it seemed appropriate.
Talon responded with “You love it, and you know it.”
I really had to think about that. Don’t you think that periodically everyone, even people committed to fitness, HATE working out. I think I am in one of those ruts where you just despise every second of what you are doing. I mean, I appreciate the way I feel after. I am just in a pattern that is incredible non rewarding right now. I want to sit in front of the big screen and cram donuts. Not good.
The problem is I am addicted to it- to exercise. And if I don’t do it, I feel depressed and overwhelmed. So I guess I will keep plugging away, though I will soon turn 46 and am likely to remain the weakest, slowest crossfitter at the box. Maybe, just maybe if I keep trying, I’ll get better.
Hell, I may even do a pull up some day.