I MISS BUTCH

I miss Butch. I'm lost. Seriously. One day and I'm hooked. Never mind the fact that in this economy I'm afraid to spend even a dollar that I don't have to because I don't know where the next dime is coming from. Never mind that the cost of a personal trainer is like a car payment. Never mind that for the past 48 hours, I've found it hard to rise from or lower into a seated position. Never mind that the bastard threw my age in my face. Before Monday, I never knew what I was missing. But now……………well……………..there's no going back.

No, I'm not going to hire Butch as my personal trainer unless I win the lottery. But I would REALLY like to. And since I don't buy tickets, winning the lottery is not likely. Butch made it interesting. I'll just long for the day when money is no object. Butch pushed me. Butch ridiculed me. OK, maybe I don't miss that part so much. Butch knew what he was doing. And therein lies the problem.

This is a new gym for me. I may not have gotten great results at my old gym but I knew where everything was and how it worked. The torture exercise equipment at this gym is unfamiliar to me. Who knew there could be so many different ways to work a muscle?

I returned to the gym yesterday sans Butch at my side. It was pull day. That means biceps and …..uh……..chest, I think. I guess I should have taken notes. Armed with my ipod jamming away, I walked to the section where Butch had shown me the "pull" machines where. The only one I recognized had two men working there and they didn't move away during my entire workout. I was finally able to decipher the code to work a few of the machines. I set my weight at 30lbs. I have no idea if that is too much or too little but I used to do much more. But I'm starting over now and I didn't want to over-do. I worked my way through four machines and decided since Butch was nowhere to be seen that should be enough for one day. I walked upstairs to my old friend the elliptical. Now don't forget that Butch told me to do no more than 30 minutes cardio and that I should stay in the "fat-burning" zone which means my heart rate should be no higher than 120. At first, I thought this sounded great. I don't have to exercise as long as I was doing before and I don't have to work as hard. This proved to be more difficult that you might think.

I'm not sure but I think my heart rate was higher than 120 when I got on the machine. I had to climb two flights of stairs just to get there. I was never able to get my heart rate below 129. According to Butch, if you work too hard during cardio, you start to burn muscle instead of burning fat. I thought I was going to like working out with less intensity. Instead, I found it very challenging. I flipped through several songs on my ipod trying to find the right tempo. I finally settled on these:

• Michael pre-27 nose jobs and hanging baby off the balcony Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel. (This is such a great song. You can't help but move. The tempo was a little too quick so I had to visualize myself doing slow, controlled plies. This practice worked to some extent.)
  
• John Cougar Mellancamp's Cherry Bomb. (I got to daydream about the good old days when a sport was a sport and holding hands meant something…………baby.)
  
• Sara Evans' Otis Redding. (If you've never heard this song, you're missing it. It stirs my soul and evokes emotion in me that make me long for a simpler time)
  
• Marty Stuart and Johnny Cash singing Doin My Time. (Not only was the tempo a little slower but doin' my time was a nice fit, don't you think? Prison, Gym……..Potato, Potatto)
  
• Crystal Lewis' God's Been Good to Me (The story of my Life)
  

Thirty minutes of cardio completed and I was out the door. I noticed today at work as the day wore on that it became harder and harder to lift my arms. Butch would be so proud.

THE IRON BODY CURSE

At the very beginning of this blog I discussed my experience with tackling the Iron Bodies class at my gym. Since that time, I've been trying to make it back to the class. It's been ten weeks. It's a great work-out. The instructor is an incredible motivator. I can't get there. The class is held once a week. I missed a few opportunities due to work. That's understandable. But every time I think I am going to be able to leave my office in time to get there for the bodily punishment work-out of a lifetime, something gets in the way. One week my boss's youngest son was sick and I had to keep him until she finished with surgery. Another week, an impromptu birthday party was thrown for my niece, Smart Mouth in Training. I could hardly miss that. There have been other excuses reasons I haven't made it back. MHS's birthday was also on the same day the class is held. Obviously I am not suggesting that I would prefer to attend Iron Bodies instead of celebrating my husband's or even my niece's birthday. I'm just saying that every single week since that first week, I can't make it there.

Yesterday, I planned to leave work early to run an errand and then continue on to the gym and be there in plenty of time. I walked out to my car in the parking lot. As I'm walking, I notice that something is not right. The right rear tire on my car is flat. My tires are no more than 90 days old. I stood there and looked to make sure I was not just seeing things. I made the call to MHS to come and rescue me. Assured that my knight in shining armor was on his way, I went back to my office and called a friend. I know, I know, today's woman should be able to change her own tire. Nah, that's why I got married. *wink*

So once again another Wednesday comes and goes without seeing me at the Iron Bodies class. I think I'm cursed.

Mini Mid-Life Crisis

What was I thinking!

After hearing those dreaded words from my physician the other day informing me of my advancing age, I hauled myself into the gym. As I explained to my doctor, I exercise regularly and have for 2 ½ years. I have to admit that my routine has become a bit stale and I haven’t felt challenged for awhile. Maybe I need to try something new. These were the thoughts that were going through my head as I walked into the gym. I am not someone who truly enjoys the process of working out. The whole “runner’s high” thing – never experienced it. I’ve run 6k and 10k runs before………..nothing. My favorite part is when it’s over. But I realize that working out is a necessary evil in my life and I trudge on. The most enjoyable experience I’ve had while exercising has been taking aerobics classes. I think this is because I enjoy laughing even if it’s at myself. So anyway, I stopped at the desk on my way into the gym and asked if they plan to add any evening classes. I was told they do not. The classes are not well attended and they have to pay the instructors. I wanted to say that maybe the classes might be better attended if they held them when average people weren’t at work. I didn’t say that though. Instead, I continued on to the locker room and started up a conversation on this topic with a complete stranger. My new friend suggested that I try the IRON BODIES class that she was on her way to right that very moment. I made my “I don’t think so face” and told her that I thought I might be better matched with a Soft, Round, Cushy Body class. “Do they have any of those?” She smiled very sweetly and told me that the class is a great all over body work-out, you don’t need to bring anything more than a towel and water and you can go at your own pace. Uh, huh. Right.

For some reason that still is a mystery to me, I followed her into the classroom where IRON BODIES was being held. The instructor, Chris, looked like a nice enough man. He welcomed me as “fresh meat” and smiled as he instructed me to be sure to work at my own pace.

The music began. We used all sorts of toys during the class. There were steps, free weights, body bars, and rubber bands. We ran, forward and backward, we lunged, we lifted and moved to the music in ways this tired body has not moved for awhile. At mid-point in the class, as I was gasping for air and gulping down water, the nice woman from the locker room asked how I was doing. As I wiped the sweat from my brow, I told her that I didn’t think we could be friends. She offered encouragement saying that I was doing great. I was not convinced.

I don’t really consider myself competitive but at some point I completely forgot those words “at your own pace”. I don’t know what happened to me. I was determined to keep up with my classmates that have been taking this class on a regular basis. I’m not saying that I was keeping up with them but I was certainly trying. I didn’t quit. There were times I had to slow down to avoid collapsing in an embarrassing heap on the floor. But eventually we arrived at my favorite part: The end. I walked out of the gym on that day proud of my accomplishment. Thoughts like,” don’t tell me I’m getting older.”, “I’ve still got it.” “I finished, didn’t I? “ all went through my head.

Driving home, it occurred to me that maybe pushing myself to the limit on the very day that my doctor tells me that my blood pressure is high and I could be at risk for stroke might not have been the most intelligent decision I’ve ever made. What was I thinking! I think I could be having my own mini mid-life crisis. My “I’ll show you” attitude would not have played well had I stroked out on the dance floor.

Around 4:30pm the next day, I was reminded of my foolish behavior the day before. I had trouble standing up from my desk. For the next two days, I was stiff and sore beyond belief. Returning to the gym was out of the question as walking was barely possible. Oh yeah, I really showed ‘em.

You know, I really thought I was above all this. I thought getting older wouldn’t bother me. And it didn’t until that day that I woke up and saw bags under my eyes that don’t disappear after I’m completely awake, lines around my mouth and excess me around the middle that doesn’t want to budge no matter how much I diet and exercise. Oh and let us not forget the words of Dr. Good News. So apparently, I’m not above it all. I wonder if there a way to approach 50 years old …………….. (someday) …………..without having at least an occasional melt-down? Is there a way to escape this desperate attempt to hang on to our youth or is it something that we should just embrace and go for it?

Will there be another IRON BODIES class in my future? You bet but this time I will go at my own pace with nothing to prove to anyone but myself. And the next time I see a middle-aged, overweight, balding man in a little red corvette, I will still smile but it will be a knowing smile saying, hey, buddy, I’m right there with you.