Death of a Blogger

It’s been eight days since I last wrote about my excercisonal escapades and what a ride it has been.  I realized after the disastrous day of burning all the calories I had ingested for the day, that I really needed to eat before I go to the gym.  I’ve noticed a definite difference in how I feel while on the treadmill if I eat right before I go versus if I don’t.  So along with packing a lunch, I’ve been packing a pre work-out meal as well.  That has consisted of about four ounces of some sort of protein and I’m not 100% sure that’s what I should be doing, but for now at least it keeps me going and that’s what I’m looking for.

I’ve stopped having so many issues with my feet, sort of.  The various bandages I bought at Target have helped protect the blisters I had gotten and so far I haven’t gotten any new ones.

Last Friday after work, I had the appointment with the Personal Trainer to go over what I wanted to do and after some discussion we determined that I could get 13 one hour sessions for $554.00.  There are some mathematical gymnastics that take place to arrive at that cost for that many sessions but that’s what we came up with.  Fortunately, I do not have to pay that all at once so the training is not completely out of the realm of possibility.  I had thought that part of this “orientation” would be a session with the trainer but we spent an hour talking about what they had to offer and what the cost was and how to apply the package and then he sent me on my way.  I actually managed to run a bit.  I’ve never been much of a runner and my stamina is definitely lacking, but at one point I cranked the treadmill up to 5 miles per hour and ran.  Well, perhaps jogged is a more accurate term.  It was perfect.  My footfalls were in tune with the beat of the song playing on my iPhone (whatever that was) and I wasn’t pushing myself too hard and I was doing OK.  It felt great.  That calories burned counter was scooting up to higher numbers, I was breathing steadily and their wasn’t really any discomfort in my shins as I am accustomed to having.  I made a point of not looking at the timer on the display but instead just kept my eyes forward and kept running.  After a few minutes, my side did start hurting and I ran for several more minutes trying to ignore it.  I made it about six and half minutes before I started feeling like I couldn’t keep going and I took the treadmill back down to about 4 miles per hour and walked fast. As the time was clicking down to the final minutes, I decided that I would run the last five minutes.  It had been 20 minutes or so since I ran and I felt like I was recovered a bit.  The clock ticked past six minutes and I was watching for it to count down to five minutes and I decided that was silly.  If I was ready to run, I was ready to run.  When the clock hit five and a half minutes I cranked it back up to 5 miles per hour and I ran until the automatic cool down started.  That night, I ran a total of twelve minutes and it felt great!  I haven’t been able to run since.

Saturday was my laundry day and after sleeping till noon, I spent the afternoon and evening at Michelle’s house doing my laundry.  I thought about, and should have gone to the gym after, it is after all a 24 hour gym, but I did not.

Sunday was meant to be spent with Lil’B but his family went out of town and they weren’t going to get back in time.  I spent the day ironing and watching DVR’d TV shows.  I was literally on my feet and ironing for ten hours (everything iron worthy I owned needed to be ironed) and the entire time I told myself that I was going to go to the gym later, when I was finished ironing and the crowd had thinned out.  I finished ironing around 8:30.  If I had gone to the gym it would have been 10:30 or later before I got back, showered and had dinner, so I decided not to go.

My legs were sore and my feet hurt from being on them on hardwood floors the whole day and I made a joke on Twitter about how ten hours of ironing must be equivalent to or better than an hour on the treadmill, right?  When I woke up Monday morning I had actually lost three pounds from what I weighed on Sunday morning…  Maybe it wasn’t so much of a joke after all.

Mondays are Dancing with the Stars party days.  For those uninitiated, a Dancing with the Stars party is where Michelle comes over and we eat dinner and watch Dancing with the Stars.  She doesn’t come over every Monday but  she comes over most of them.  There was no time for going to the Gym as I had to go home and make it sufficiently presentable for her (i.e. I had to clean the bathroom and kitchen, and sweep the floors.)

I went back on Tuesday and the line for the treadmills was insane.  I spent an hour on a recumbent bike.  I burned around 300 calories, which was not nearly enough, and fought to stay on the seat of the bike.  I like the recumbent version better from the perspective of not making favored appendages go numb and tingly, but it seems to be impossible to get the seat in just the right location to be able to ride and not feel like I’m falling off the seat.

Wednesday, I spent an hour on the treadmill, walking at a decent clip, but still didn’t get the number of calories as high as I’d like them to be.  I tend to get shin splints and I haven’t yet figured out how to prevent that and therefore haven’t been able to amp up my speed on the treadmill.

Now, yesterday was my first session with the personal trainer and OH MY GOD I’m dying.  I knew I was in trouble when he started me out with a warm up of five minutes on an elliptical machine.  I started out doing well for the first two minutes, but I could really feel it in my thighs and by the time the five minutes was almost up it was all I could do to keep my legs moving.  I was drenched in sweat already and he asked me if I had run and jumped in the pool while he wasn’t looking.  (I should have)

My trainers name is Tawiian (pronounced tuh-won).  When I finished on the elliptical machine he asked me “When was the last time you stretched?”  I told him I didn’t know and he asked me, “Last week”?  I told him I didn’t know, in a tone that said, “I HAVEN’T STRETCHED, LIKE, EVER, STOP ASKING ME!”  He stretched me and man did it actually feel good.

Apparently the concept of easing someone into something that is new to them is lost on personal trainers.  That man had me doing things I’ve never done before, with heavier weights than I could imagine using ever.  The session was an hour long and I considered the idea that I might not be able make it the full hour so I was quite surprised when Tawiian told me we were done.

I sat in a chair at his desk while he went to get some paperwork he had printed for me and I felt numb.  I sat there for five minutes before I got up and I waddled out to my car because I could barely walk.  When I got home, I sat on the toilet, doing what people do on the toilet and reading Twitter on my iPhone and I kept falling asleep.

I took my shower and went to bed.  It was 8:30.  My last thought before  drifting off to sleep was, “Wow.  Going to bed this early, I just might make it to work on time tomorrow.”  I slept for 12 hours and got to work at my usual time of 9:30.

I feel better today, but I’m still sore and very tired.

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It’s Friday again, and the coming out support group that I talked about before should be meeting again tonight.  It starts at 6:30 and I was planning on attending.  I still want to go, but I’m pretty beat from yesterday.  We’ll have to see how I feel at the end of the work day and then I’ll see about going.

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I’ve written nearly 25,000 words of my book.  That’s half of the over-all goal, 5000 words ahead of my personal schedule and 3500 words ahead of the national goal.  And on that note, I gotta get back to it.  Talk to you in another eight days, give or take.