On The Move!

Busy day today.  After a full day at work, I rushed out to attend my voice-over class. Following that, with minutes to spare, I caught a Cardio class at the gym. I felt like superman rushing from one place to another and doing a quick clothing change.  That is, if Superman drove a Honda and changed in a women's locker-room.

After the gym, I made the hour drive home and finally pulled into the driveway at 10pm. Funny enough, I wasn't as tired as I thought I'd be.  Although, the effects of the repetitive leg lunges were starting to kick in.

You could argue I wasn't tired because of the adrenalin and endorphins that were probably released from my flurry of activity. But I think it was because I was pumped up and feeling good after getting a lot done.

I started out with a plan and I pushed myself to make it happen.  I was focused, efficient and productive... and afterwards, very satisfied for accomplishing my small goals.

It was a good feeling... and it was my joy moment for today.

Okay, time to crash! LOL.

Stay tuned :-)

Cardio Madness

I visited the gym again.  My third time in as many weeks.  The other two times weren't so hot.   This time I decided to take a kickboxing cardio class instead of fooling around with the "treadmill devil".

The instructor was a gray haired, older guy, at least 50 or 60. So, I thought, I can do this.  I should have known something was awry, when I noticed there wasn't anyone near his age in the class. This guy was no senior citizen... he was a madman.

This was my first time taking a class in YEARS!  I knew it would be difficult but I started to think there was a good chance I wouldn't make it out alive. This old guy was intense!  His reps were almost sadistic.  I'm not kidding, there were people in the room in amazing shape who were breathing hard and looked like they would pass out.  I could hear my inner critic laughing, "You don't stand a chance". Ten minutes into the class, a petite girl next to me, grabbed her bag and ran out the door.  I would have followed her but I caught a cramp.

I was convinced I wouldn't finish... but... I did!  I admit, I did take a couple of breaks here and there and a few times, I didn't perform his million set of reps, but I did complete the majority of the routine. I was so proud of myself!  "I am a machine!"  I wanted to scream.  An old,  outdated and rusty machine... but a machine, nonetheless!

This time, after my gym workout I felt exhilarated and proud.  I have to admit the instructor was actually very good. Throughout the class, he checked on everyone and was very encouraging.  I just didn't want to acknowledge that while I struggled to get oxygen into my lungs and my hair out of my mouth.

But he was great and gave the class an amazing workout. I felt lighter when I left. It could've been because I had sweat all the fluid out of my body, but who cares, I felt lighter!

That was my joy moment today.

I'll be back.  Bring it on, cardio dude!

Stay tuned :-)

Shame, Pain, and Joy

I experienced all three of these emotions in the course of just one hour. I went to the gym.

As I walked through the fluorescent sweatshop, I passed an array of perfectly sculpted, glistening work-out gods. I kid you not, I was the only one there, dry and with a bad BMI.  I'm not grossly overweight but next to the skeletons, I looked like a sumo wrestler.  "Where is the fat section?" I almost asked, because I was obviously among the "after picture" crowd. Hence, the shame.

I got on the treadmill and wondered what masochist thought up this machine. When do we ever walk or run at a 25 inch incline? Correction, when do I every walk or run at a 25 inch incline? One guy next to me had the incline so high I thought he'd tip over.  I was glad when he left, but my glee was short lived when I realized I was the only one not running in a long row of treadmills.  My sweaty hand gripped the handle bar and held on for dear life, as I reluctantly increased the treadmill speed. It's not a race you say? Tell that to the girl next to me who kept sneaking peeks at my pace number.  I increased the speed again.  Bring on the pain.

After enduring 45 minutes of self-induced torture, I slowly got off the "treadmill devil". Did I feel victorious and renewed because I completed a solid workout?  No. Was I tired and hungry? Yes.

So where does the joy come in?  When I realized I could still walk out of the gym without assistance. When I got home and found the Ben Gay in the medicine cabinet. When I resisted the incredible urge to burn my gym membership card and the workout clothes I was wearing.

Yes, I will live another day and I will return to the gym.

Tiny, subdued, yet satisfying joy.

Stay tuned. :-)