Treadmill Philosophy and an Open Letter

Step after step, mile after mile, I walk. Walk, walk, walk. I like the hills setting - the variety keeps it from getting dull. I don't go faster than 3.4 miles per hour, nor slower than 3.2 miles per hour - it may not seem like much, but I can feel the difference. The slow pace is because I am trying to be rid of my fifty-acre ass, not attain cardio fitness - my heart, despite my weight, is just fine.

The treadmills have TV screens on them, and controls to change the channel or volume at will. One simply plugs in one's headphones and one has several hundred channels of distraction to choose from. I turn it off. I have my iPod and several playlists to choose from, and I prefer to look out the window and watch people come and go, enjoy the flight of various birds, and follow the clouds as they drift along.

In the blank screen, I see my reflection. Step by step we walk together, keeping a measured pace, but although we walk toward each other, we never seem to meet. Deep, huh?
~~~~~
Dear Man, Woman, or Undetermined Gym Goer,

While I realize that one goes to the gym with the intent of achieving their desired level of fitness;

And while I know that achieving the desired level of fitness will probably involve sweating, perhaps copiously;

I should not have to smell the evidence of your profuse sweating while I am trying to maintain a steady pace and taking deep, deep breaths. Gagging while walking is not recommended.

Also, what do you eat that produces such a stink? Or was it something you rolled in? I once knew a dog that rolled in roadkill and didn't come home with a funk like yours. May I introduce you to a little thing called deodorant? Arm and Hammer makes one that's natural and unscented, if perfume is your concern...but given your odor on Monday morning, I wouldn't think perfume would be a bad thing.

Or, if deodorant is just not available, appropriate, or against your religion, perhaps you could hand around filter masks for the rest of us? I sure would appreciate it, and I'm fairly certain my fellow patrons would, too.

Sincerely,
The woman on treadmill number three who may have tried to walk her second mile while holding her breath

Insomnia

Insomnia sucks. You don't appreciate the simple pleasure of sleep until it wriggles from your grasp and mocks you with the deep, peaceful rest of everyone in the house - cats included - but you.

It would help if my mattress wasn't completely worthless at this point, and if I had a hope of a new one soon. It is, and I don't, dang it.

I would like to get some sleep, Universe, if you please. Even if you don't please. Something more than an hour or two punctuated with back pains, neck pains, and the occasional crazed-kitty perforation of my skin. Also, I'd like some sleep because despite TiVo and nine-million channels on the TV, I can't find anything to watch, I've read all my usual blogs twice, and my eyes are all wiggy so I can't play games on Bob the Wonder Computer...plus, he's overheating and I think I burned my knee holding him. Sigh.

I'm going to the gym tomorrow (or would that be later today??) and walking until the treadmill begs for mercy, and then maybe I'll get a bit of zzzzzzzzz...ssknnxxxxx...zzzzz...

Once a Week is Enough, Right?

Going to the gym once a week should be fine, right?

Seriously, despite my hopes that we'd get to the gym every day, so far we've managed to go on Mondays, but that's it. Seems the remaining days of the week get eaten up and we don't get out there, dang it!

I am hoping we'll make it today, but it's looking grim. I need to start packing for my trip to Ohio - I'm leaving Saturday for a week-long event during which my band has three concerts and a number of workshops to perform. It's a blast.

At least I don't have to pack for the Evil Genius - he's staying home with Daddy this time, giving me a bit of a break. I enjoy having him with me, but it's tiring. When it's hot (at least half the week, and this year we're expecting several days in the hundreds) I worry about keeping him hydrated and out of the sun as much as possible. When it rains (at least once during the week, if not for the whole event), I worry about keeping him dry at least for a few minutes a day, and getting all the mud off him before bed time. Always I am concerned with making certain he is fed, clothed (or not, it's a clothing optional event and he usually opts out), and entertained. It makes for a long week.

This year, T is keeping him home, hurrah!! Mum and I are both looking forward to a PSG wherein we can go to bed when we like, rise when we like, and do as we like without concern for the child and his well being.

No, I'll just worry about what he's doing here at home while I'm away. He'll be OK subsisting on fast food and macaroni and cheese all week, right? Right?? Maybe he and T will get to the gym more than once while I'm gone...

To go or not to go...

Ugh. Scratchy throat. Nose running like faucet. Today is a gym day - but I am thinking I may not go. I don't feel too awful, but I have no idea if I'm contagious - so do I go get in one workout before whatever I have flattens me, or do I wait and just go after it's run its course?

I'm thinking I won't be going - Bird is still coughing and I don't want to expose him to childcare or vice versa. Sigh. I guess it'll be a "doze cuddled in the chair" kind of day. Maybe I can go this afternoon, when T gets home from work...

Nothing like a new convert, huh?

A little hmmm, and a little hurrah!

First, the "hmm." I had my baseline assessment at the gym this morning. They took my BP (perfect, as always), weighed me (while I wept), and had me bend, stretch, and generally look a fool while they measured my performance - all so I'd know where I am (unfit as hell, that's where!) and can figure out where I want to be (me minus one-hundred-twenty pounds, that's where!) and how to get there (stop eating so dang much and start moving a whole lot more, that's how). I was told to slow down on the treadmill, but lengthen my time. It seems that speed isn't what I need, it's duration. If the heart goes too fast, the fat doesn't go at all. Dang. Also, I don't need to do the weights as much - I'm actually pretty strong and limber for a woman of size. No problem. I will adjust my workouts accordingly, although I am impatient and want to do more, not less. Still, if the end result is me weighing less, I'll manage.

Now for the "hurrah!" My preemie nephew now weighs two pounds!! So he weighs less than the brisket I'm cooking tonight, so what? He's gained weight! When you start out at one and a half pounds, another half pound is huge! The docs are considering transfering him to a hospital closer to my brother and SIL so they don't have a two plus hour drive to get to him every day.

Now I am going to cut strawberries for tonight's desert. Mmm, strawberries...

Speaking of Tornadoes...

I had a late start this morning, so I didn't get to the gym until almost eleven o'clock. 35 minutes on level 2 hills, 1.9 miles, and three rounds of the circuit room...in case you cared. A woman who was working out in the circuit room mentioned that we were expecting bigger storms than we had last night, supposedly heading right for us. As we spoke, Alabama was being lambasted (not her words, mine) and we should brace ourselves. Well, thanks, Suzy Sunshine! I opted to finish my workout and let the weather sort itself out without my help.

I had to run to the grocery store afterwards. My goodness. People buying cases of water, loaves and loaves of bread. Really, you get hit by a tornado and you want bread and water? I would be stocking up on chocolate and bottled Starbuck's.

While out and about, I called home to see if I needed to add anything to the list. Our roommate was concerned that I wasn't home, the first time. Second time, he said I needed to get my butt home right away. I told T to relay to him that I would get home when I was damn good and ready, and the tornado could just wait for me.

I got home, and a few minutes later, the sky looked quite sullen. I think the storm was cross with me for not being home when it came to call. T and J were watching the local weather, and as T was helping me bring in the groceries, he told me there were reports of funnels all over Gainesville. That's just a few miles north of us. I replied "That's Gainesville and we live in Braselton." If you live 'round here or look at a map, you'll know why that's so funny. If you don't know, well...we may as well be in Gainesville, where weather is concerned. The storm system was ten miles wide, more than enough to cover Gainesville and us with some to spare. Whatever. I was here first.

On the weather map, there wasn't a fraction of an inch small enough to describe how close the tornadoes were to where we live. Looking out the window, you'd never know they were out there. We're fine, didn't even head for the downstairs bathroom, although I think T and J wanted to go. I wanted to eat my lunch. Working out makes me hungry, dang it, and if I am going to get smushed by my house, I'd prefer to do it with a full stomach.

So here I sit, surrounded by storms, inches away from an exclamation point of an afternoon, and what am I doing? Seeking shelter? Watching the weather channel? No and no. I am eating my mostly-veggies Italian sandwich and watching the Mobil One Twelve Hours of Sebring (I have worked in the communications tower for this race - fun, fun, fun!!). Smart, me.

A crappy poetic interlude, plus more.

It's the "plus more" you're interested in, isn't it? That's OK, scroll on down, but it won't be any more fun than the crappy poetic interlude. You've been warned.

Grey Morning
~~~~~~~~~~
Grey morning crept out,
Dusted the sky with half-hearted light,
Silvered the Leland Cyprus,
Reminded me of sunrises in my Northern years.
Mornings muffled with snowfall.
Mornings whispering with rainfall.
Mornings cacophonous with birdcalls.
Just before the world turns color again,
There is a gel silver look to it,
An "Ansel Adams was here" look to it,
One tree swaying in delicate pink lace
Makes a counterpoint
To this creeping grey morning.

Meanwhile, I am hearing "Bring On the Rain" in my head. The temperature has dropped several degrees since this morning, and a small shower made a comma in my workout at the Gym - all the kids were outside playing and marched in when the sprinkles began, right in front of the window where I was slogging away on the treadmill. Of course I searched out the Evil Genius because I am a mum and we do that. He was holding hands with another little guy, marching along with all the other kids, and I almost fell off the treadmill it was so freakin' cute.

It is darkening outside, clouds thickening and growing broody. I keep telling them to bring it on. Bring on the rain. My poor parched bit of earth won't withstand another long dry like last Summer's drought. We're still some thirteen feet down on the lake. Bring on the rain, I say. Wash away the pollen that is only just beginning to wreak havoc with Bird's and my sinuses and lungs. Wash away the stink of Bradford Pears in bloom (Just in case you didn't know what they smell like, well...the politest way I can put it is - they smell of spunk. If you don't know what that is, go watch Sex and the City until they explain it, because I'm not.). Wash away the dust and grime that have dulled my world, my bit of earth, for months. Bring it on. Bring on the rain.

Again with the meanwhile, the ornamental plum looks quite lovely, all that pink froth against the grey (Yes, spell check, grey. I am reclaiming the spelling of my youth, when we had a choice about these things!! I don't care how much you pout in the corner, it's staying "grey"!) is so delicate, you'd never know that the tree in question (blossoms and all) has withstood some truly impressive winds of late without turning a leaf over it. I do love the grace of the tree dancing in the wind, and it belies a hidden strength, a durability that is enviable. Perhaps in my next life I shall be such a tree, pliable yet constant with tiny little blooming treasures and surprising scarlet leaves.

Now for the gym report, because obviously I did manage to go after fun and games at the doctor's. I did 1.97 miles in 35 minutes on level 2 hills setting, with a top speed of (brace yourself) a whopping 3.8 mph (for a whole 2 minutes, no less!), and three, count 'em three rounds of the circuit room. I felt better today, although my neck is still bothersome. I think taking yesterday off helped, and I'm going to see how two on, one off does as a schedule. I know that I should rest between weight/resistance training to give the muscles a chance to...well...do whatever muscles do when you suddenly force them to lift, press, push, and pull weights after they'd happily settled into an existence of noodlehood. Yeah, the best laid plans, and all that.

Hey, it's sprinkling! I am going to go frolic in the rain...yay...

Reouch.

As in, ouch again. 1.87 miles in 35 minutes on the treadmill, level one hill setting again, and one round of the circuit room. I tried to do two rounds, but I just couldn't. Good grief, just getting up the stairs from my garage was a trial. I need to remember this hurt when I am thinking fond thoughts of Starbucks or Cold Stone Creamery. Although, to be fair, I have been to Cold Stone in over a year. But still...mm...ice cream...wait, no!! Bad!! Down, girl!!

Whew. The downside to being a halfway decent cook is it's easy to get fat. Add psychological issues to the mix, it's even easier. Add elleventy million boxes of Girl Scout cookies a year, assorted easily consumed, fat and/or sugar-laden snacks and convenience foods to the mix and, well...sigh...

So why am I listing what I did at the gym here? As a sort of goad for myself. Making it concrete, you know? This is what I did today...or didn't do. Five days a week, at least four of them in the actual workout room, not the pool. That's what I am working toward. We'll see if I make it, and if I can keep it up. I might even be brave enough to discuss actual weight loss, should I experience any. Right now, I'll settle for less aching.

Oh, and? There was no masseuse waiting for me when I got home!! Dang!

Ouch.

It started yesterday afternoon. Little aches. Little reminders from my body that I am overweight, out of shape, haven't been to the gym since, umm...November! I'd stand up, and my legs would twinge. Reach for a pot, and my neck and shoulders let me know about it.

Last night, I went to bed just knowing that today would be an ouchy kind of day.

I was right.

Ouch!

I swear, even my fingers are telling me about it!

I don't care, though, I am going back this morning, if only to slog along on the treadmill for a while.

If there's a masseuse waiting at my house when I get home, I won't turn her away. I'm just sayin'.

I went to the gym.

Grrrooooooaaaannnnnnn.

I'm just sayin'. Grrroooooaaaannnnnnnn.

20 minutes on the treadmill, hills setting level 1, for 1.27 miles in 25 minutes. Then twice around the circuit room, and finally stretching. I'm good for the rest of the month, right?

I'm going to the gym.

No, really, I am. Just as soon as I finish cleaning the kitchen. And, um, doing the laundry. Oh, and sorting through Bird's clothes and removing the too-small things and putting the rest away again.

Also, I should really pressure wash the North side of the house and weed the Iris bed, don't you think?

Then there are all the blogs I read in the morning - won't they miss me?

But after that, I'll go. Wait. They don't have childcare between one and four in the afternoon, so I have to get out of the house by eleven if I want to get there, get the Evil Genius checked in, change into my exercise clothes, and get in a real workout before childcare closes and we have to go. And I hate going in the afternoon because there are all those kids there after school, and the teeny-bopper girls all stare at me and giggle and my poor delicate ego can't stand it.

So I'll definitely go if Bird wakes up by, say, ten o'clock (Excuse me, tree service in my neighbor's yard? Could you muffle that chainsaw? Puhleeeeze??) and I can get him fed, dressed and in the car by eleven.

Otherwise, I'll go tomorrow. But I will go. After all, I washed my socks and everything.