Stairmaster, you elusive mistress

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . December 9, 2009 . 8:33PM

For a while now, I’ve been working on my fitness and thus far, it’s been a productive measure. I feel things toning and fat is burning and unpleasant things are happening to my body that I’ve been reassured are GREAT! Those unpleasant things mean that what I’m doing is working! Woot!

Last week, I was on the phone with my trainer and he scolded me. This is becoming commonplace. I need a little scolding now and then because, quite frankly, I’m bad. I have horns. Don’t be surprised when I do bad things. I’m not good. So, yes, sometimes I get scolded.

The reason for the scolding this time was that I’d become comfortable with the evil, wretched treadmill and the *heavens open up and light shines down* amazing, wonderful, beautiful elliptical machine. I was alternating them and frankly, my dear, it wasn’t enough. I needed variety. [insert scolding and I told you's here]

My response was “Yeah, yeah, yeah but stairs scare me! When I climb the stairs at school I end them in the fetal position and rocking.”

My trainer, Mike, was not impressed, yelled some more, and told me to get my butt on the stairmaster.

Whatever.

So I have thrown in it the mix.

It’s going to kill me yet.

When I’m on the stairmaster, I don’t get the nice feelings or the high that I get on the elliptical or the numbing, dulling zone out of the treadmill. I get the tired legs and the “you’re going to die mwahahahahah” of the stairmaster. I admit: I want to give up. Here’s how I don’t: I make up elaborate fantasies and schemes as to what will happen if I can complete my 25 minute stairmaster rotation.

“If I can just get through the next 10 minutes I can have that condo in downtown Nashville that I want! Floor to ceiling windows, baby. Decorate it any way I want it and my drive to both work and school is down to 10 minutes. Boo-yah!”

“If I can just get through the next 20 minutes, the minute I step off this stairmaster, a swarthy pirate named Hugh Jackman is going to come out the bathroom, growl, “MMM, I always liked ‘em chubby” and throw me over his shoulder while I meekly say, “Help. I’m being abducted.” Then he will buy me my condo in Nashville.”

Wait. What were we talking about? Oh, the stairmaster. See? That’s how I get through it. Man, I love me a pirate.

You haven’t conquered me yet, stairmaster. Hugh and I are going to get through this. We always do.

Runners

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . December 8, 2009 . 11:18PM

Dear 5am runners,

Before Thanksgiving, I had the opportunity, NAY, the privilege of being up around 5am. The reasons why are unimportant, but, needless to say, I’d rather stay up all night than get up at that time and my thought was that I’d rather run laps over hot coals than get up at that time in the near future ever again.

Anyway, I was driving at the unholy hour and it was foggy and colder than a chicken nugget in a freezer in the South Pole and I thought to myself, “Self, what kind of person would subject him or herself to this weather and this hour on purpose?” And then I saw you running and it came to me.

A crazy person.

A crazy person does this.

So, I salute you devoted runner. You take it to a whole new level. I appreciate your dedication to getting your buff on when even icecicles wouldn’t go outside. I’m sure your muscles appreciate thawing out in -1000 degree temperature and waking up at 4:30am to “get in the morning run.”

Yep.

You enjoy that.

I’m just going to go back to bed.

Sincerely,

Motivation

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 18, 2009 . 8:21PM

Last week, I talked to you about my new zest for exercise. And now I have to confess something to you about my motivation: I do weird things to keep it going.

Do any of you remember Ally McBeal? Ally was a 20-something lawyer who had a vivid imagination and quite a few eccentricities and quirks. Her character made me feel better about myself. Her male counterpart, J.D. on Scrubs, also had the fantasies he would visit when he was uncomfortable or needed a break from reality for a bit. It’s a great coping mechanism and a sign of adaptability.

Or, at least that’s what I choose to tell myself.

When I’m on the treadmill, I dance in my head. In a club. With some of you. And we shake that thing. Every now and then, I get so into it, I forget where I am. It happened to me tonight at the gym for a brief second. You were shaking your thing and for a half second, I shook mine while I power-walked on that treadmill.

And the man on the elliptical behind me laughed.

What I want to know is how many times I’m doing this that I don’t catch? And what was he doing watching my thing? Pervert.

Walking the dog

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 10, 2009 . 10:38AM

For the last several months, I’ve been “off my program.” My program had been eating good for me foods and losing weight. Unfortunately, I’d hit a plateau, and after a month of said plateau, I gave up the fight. It wasn’t a huge deal for me, but I wanted to keep moving forward on my loss. I hadn’t been motivated until Halloween. I saw my Halloween pictures and thought, “Man, I really wanted to be a Merlotte’s waitress this year.” Yes, Brandon would probably classify it as a slut costume, but I love True Blood and I really want to do homage to the show without being a vampire. When I looked at the costume though, I thought to myself, “Self, you clearly cannot wear that costume in your current condition. It’s about that time.” So, yes. I am going to get myself in shape for a Halloween costume. I don’t see that it’s any better or worse than anyone else’s excuse. Besides, I have been working on getting in shape for me for a long time. This is just the added motivation.

My YMCA card had dust on it, so I blew that sucker off and decided to get back to business. Over the weekend, I’d managed to get ‘er done (yes, I just said it-go on and disown me), but after the car fiasco, I knew there wouldn’t be time to workout. My fitness guru and very good friend, Mike, has been yoda-ing me in this go-round and he’d cautioned that I needed a recovery day for my body. So, I decided that a nice, leisurely walk with Reagan would do the trick.

I don’t play favorites with walking the dogs, it’s just that Sophie tuckers out after a block and Molly is so busy sniffing and marking territory that I’d never get anywhere if I took them. Reagan is built Ford-tough. She has tiny legs and some serious muscle in that little weiner dog body of hers. She went with me today for 35 minutes without complaint. We did have some adventures, though.

-We attacked every crunchy leaf in the vicinity of our walk. As the trees are letting them drop like crazy, this amounted to some serious attacks.

-A school bus full of children waved at us.

-Reagan whined at the school bus full of children because she knows that the school bus might mean AJ is there.

-When the bus went past with no AJ, she pouted, moped, and refused to jump on crunchy leaves until I was ahead of her crunchy leaf ratio 10:1.

-We went around a park and found a small stream that I didn’t know existed.

-A car drove past us with a little dog in it that so desperately wanted to make Reagan it’s “friend” that it almost jumped out the window. I watched as it slowly drove past with the dog hanging out the window and the owner laughing so hard he almost let go of the little dog.

-We saw some beautiful fall foliage.

-A LOOSE doberman came running after Reagan. Apparently my horns came out because I yelled at it “NO!” and “YOU GO HOME YOU VERY BAD DOG!” and it literally turned and ran with its tail between it’s legs. Wussy. I must have a fierce angry face. Don’t mess with anything I believe belongs to me. I will ruin you. I don’t care if you have teeth that can tear me apart. I look really mean when I’m mad. And if I see it again I will have no problem calling animal control and letting those people pay to get that dog back. Leash laws are there for a reason.

-Reagan gave me the biggest, happiest face when she saw the front yard. Dogs can grin, you know? We both got our fitness on.

Overall, my walk today was simply breathtaking. It helped remind me why fall is my favorite season. I hope that all of you are spending some time outside just enjoying the scents and beauty of this time of year. I want to take a second and thank Mike, one more time, for the time and effort he has been putting into me. My friendships mean a lot to me and he’s holding me accountable this time and it is what I needed. I’m one of those needy, hard to be friends with people because sarcasm is my defense mechanism, so it really is hard to put up with me on a regular basis. I’m also sensitive, so I take things the wrong way a lot. To be “in charge” of anything I’m doing, especially when I’m such a type-A, has got to be a pain in the butt, so thank you, again.

Car trouble, why do you plague me?

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 9, 2009 . 10:34AM

Yesterday was a no good, very bad day.

It didn’t start that way. It started just fine, well, as fine as a day can start when I’m on a 4 day caffeine induced headache can start. However, I’ve been getting my fitness on and eating well and I was convinced I could get rid of the headache with some really fantastic endorphins. The ones that the elliptical gave me on Saturday were…superb to the say the least.

So, AJ and I headed to the Y and left the sickly Leon at home to face his chest congestion. AJ loves to go the Y and swim while I work out and I like having the company while I drive. We were almost there when I saw joggers going past. As I turned into the Y, I made sure that I made a wide arc to give them plenty of room. I know what it’s like to be on the side of the road and have cars so close that I can feel their heat. I was not rewarded for my good thoughts this time, though, as there was a huge area of pothole/uneven pavement with jagged edges that had my name on it.

It took out both of my right tires and I swerved to avoid rolling down the small hill. When I swerved, I must have bent the rim of one of the tires. When my heartbeat got back to normal, AJ and I got out of the car and hiked up to the Y. We had Leon on his way and roadside assistance coming with the tow truck, so there was nothing to do but go work out. The other option was sit in my car and stew about it. Honestly, I’d rather listen to my mp3 player and work off the calories.

This still hasn’t hit the part where my day was bad. I can handle things like that. As long as I have some semblance of control, I do fine. However, an hour later, the tow truck had not arrived and the place to replace the tires was only open a little while longer. During that time period, Leon’s car battery died. As he was about to lose his shhhh, a gorgeous man was flagged over to help us jump start the car. Of course, this happened after I’d worked out and I. was. stank. Figures.

An hour and a half later, the tow truck finally showed and offered to take my car to their shop and fix the tires. Ok. That worked for me. I hadn’t eaten and was about to Hulk Smash someone, so we grabbed food and went on our way. When we got there, they let me know that the rim was bent, and the two tires punctured beyond repair and they couldn’t fix my car that night, so it would be the next day before they could help us.

Yep. No good very bad day. If you want to contribute to my new tires, you know where the donate button is.

At least it wasn’t as bad as this guy, who drove his car into the flower bed at my office building and knocked down the office sign.