Filed Under: exercise

The great outdoors

March 13, 2007 at 9:53 am

Back in elementary school I hated going outside. Typically going outside meant playing kickball and on one occasion I decided it was preferable to hide under a table next to the guinea pig pen instead of going onto the pocked concrete field to have the red, rubber ball tossed in my direction. I’m sure Harry appreciated the company, or at least appreciated being terrorized by only one eight-year-old instead of 30. I never understood why all my classmates got so revved up over the thought of going out into the humidity and heat. We’d spent over a millennia of evolution to become smart enough to invent the air conditioner. Shouldn’t we stay inside to do our Venn diagrams and appreciate it?

Which is why it is so odd that I was ecstatic that it was warm enough this weekend to go running on the trail. Maybe it’s because no one throws balls at me out there – at least not yet – though I did need to watch out for dog poop. Is there a plastic bag shortage I should know about? Because it wasn’t so poopy out there last year. I know the physical changes in myself over the past two years are obvious, but it’s attitude changes like this that I find the most fascinating. I’m now the kind of person who likes to run outside and who cooks her dinner most every night. I’ve heard that over the course of every seven years, every cell in your body replaces itself at least once. I don’t know if this is actually true or one of those urban myths, but sometimes I wonder if my data got slightly corrupted and now I’m a copy of someone I never was.

Either way, running in the fresh air was fun and uplifting in ways I can’t really describe. I’m able to run much farther now than I could back in the fall. Whenever I saw another runner passing by, I felt like we were in a secret club of people who know how great running feels. If you’re not in the club, you just can’t understand. I know, because I definitely did not used to have a membership card. The idea of exercise for fun seemed illogical. In the Venn diagram of my old life, you’d have to place me outside the circle of “People who enjoy running,” but now you can put my name right in the middle.

People I want to punch

March 8, 2007 at 2:52 pm

I think the key to getting a good workout during kickboxing class is to imagine someone particularly vile when I’m throwing right hooks and uppercuts. In the last session I imagined the creep who had somehow hacked my ebay account an hour before class. S/he not only listed fake auctions, but made me late for class since I had to change all my passwords and cancel about 20 auctions for DVD sets of “The L Word” and “24.” In this case I think the L word was “lying leech” and I’d love to see my hacker playing the part of a torture victim in the latest day of Jack Baur’s life. I took my rage out on the air molecules in the elementary school gymnasium and now my biceps and triceps are sore like they haven’t been after the other two classes. Exercise is indeed a good stress release.

I was also pissed at another attendee in class, a guy who seemed to be dragged there by his wife or girlfriend. I imagine she talked him into it by saying kickboxing was a manly, macho thing where he’d get to grunt and kick things. He must have been very disappointed when halfway through class our instructor told us to shake our booty and yell “Whoo!” There was one point when the instructor got lost and had to stop until the next 8 bar cycle to jump back in. About half the class got lost and stopped too, like a giant game of Simon Says where Simon was a mute. This guy took this as an opportunity to stand and pout with his arms crossed. He then walked to the side of the gym right next to me and continued pouting loudly until the next water break. I really wanted to sock him one.

I’m empathetic if the class was not as enjoyable as he’d hoped it’d be and he wasn’t having a good time. I can also understand if he was mad that the instructor got lost. But standing around pouting like that was so rude. It’s important to keep the energy level up during an aerobics class or it’s not as much fun. It’s like the vibe at a really good concert that you can never replicate with a DVD at home. You have to give as well as take. His crossed arms and beady glare were committing theft of our energy high, just like that hacker who stole my password. A risky move on his part, since I was only two yards away and have very little control over my roundhouse kick.

After the water break he joined back in, but I hope he either doesn’t show up next time or seriously retunes his attitude. Or else one of these days I really am going to end up punching somebody.

Jab, Cross, Uppercut – Duck!

February 21, 2007 at 8:52 am

I survived my first kickboxing class without getting a close-up look of the Nike sole pattern in my face. I’m not sure which is more a danger to me, myself or the kicks and punches of my fellow turbo cardio participants. I think the lady to my left was gunning for me, the feisty old broad. And I haven’t even perfected my blocking guard yet!

The yoga class ahead of us was running 10 minutes late, so everyone congregated in the hallway of the elementary school the class is held in. I can’t recall the last time I was in an elementary school, but, wow, I do not miss that government institutionalized look. Just being in a building like that reminded me of the time as a child when adults have complete say over what you do. Walking through the cafeteria on the way in brought back similar sensory memories of bad food and weird smells and annoying classmates. If someone had handed me a lunch tray, I might have had a full flashback to 5th grade food fights and gone catatonic.

As I was sitting there on the hard, compact carpet, thankfully not rocking myself back and forth due to post-traumatic elementary school trauma, I wondered if anyone had actually checked if the door was open. I remember a couple times in high school we’d all get back from lunch and loiter in the hallway outside the door only to discover the teacher had left it unlocked. Of course I fulfilled my part in proving humans are pack animals by being too timid to actually check the door or ask anyone about it. Eventually a girl poked her head in and saw all the yoga students* doing their final rest in a dimly lit gym. Once they exited, we got to start our class.

I did pretty well, especially considering I’ve never done a group aerobics class before. I’d run through a video tape or two at home, but I’ve never belonged to a gym and we never did tapes in PE. This was actually an activity I preferred doing with other people because when other peopled effed up the choreography I felt far less inferior than I would have otherwise, like a Cro-Magnon instead of slime that had just crawled out of the ocean. A lot of people were better at the choreography than me either because they’d been to the Thursday class as well (cheaters!) or they’d taken kickboxing before. But I kept up fairly well, though my definition of “left” and “right” are clearly more flexible than other people’s. This will no doubt eventually lead to an uppercut to my chin.

We only did half a workout because the instructor needed to teach us basic moves, but I was able to survive without collapsing on the shiny wooden floor or being TKO’ed or even KO’ed. I was rather proud that I was not exhausted and there were clearly people there who were more out of shape than me. The last time I was in a school gym I was obviously the poorest athlete in the crowd and now I’m sitting in the middle of the bell curve. It was a nice change of pace, but I need to be more careful about moving my body with the punches and kicks. I tend to want to plant my body still, which will only lead to knee injuries.

*ETA: This originally said “yoga nuts,” but I changed it because the yoga people were offended. I wasn’t trying to use the term “yoga nuts” in a derogative way. I would classify myself as a “Pilates nut” and probably a “health nut” too. And I like nuts a lot, especially cashews. So don’t hate on me, yoga-philes! I may not understand your culture, but I mean you no harm. I guess you only get to use the term “nut” if you are a part of the group you are calling nutty. Since I’m a cashew and not a pistachio, I’ll refrain from using this phrase again.

Leaping Lizards

January 26, 2007 at 9:32 am

The instructor on my Pilates DVD is not only a trained expert, but a bit of a comedian. Near the end of the routine there comes a part where in one movement she rolls backward on the mat and then rolls forward to leap into a standing pose. This has always been good for a chuckle from me since I’m convinced only rabbit-human hybrids can jump up like that. Ana Caban’s father must have been the Easter bunny. The funniest part is that she acts like this is no big deal, as if this is how we all get out of the bed each morning.

I’m pretty game though, so I’ve attempted to imitate this maneuver several times in the last month, usually just falling back on my ass and giggling. Hopefully my downstairs neighbor thinks I’m engaged in wacky sexual hijinks instead of failed Pilates moves (though the two aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive).

Then last night I actually did it.

Granted, it was more like I rolled forward into a squat, paused and then stood up from there, like a gymnast wavering and struggling to barely land a vault. But I did it, poor form and all. The first words out of my mouth were “Holy fuck!”

Then I walked to the hallway to do wall pushups because even though I have discovered my true heritage as daughter of the Trix rabbit, I still can’t do a “real” pushup. As proof of my diligence over the past months, there are now marks on the wall from my oily handprints. I guess I should stop in the kitchen and wash my hands on the way to the wall.

Despite my newfound agility, I’m pretty sure I’m going to gain this week due to my period and because I’ve been eating too much. Actually, I wonder if I’m been eating too much because of my period. Does anyone else get really hungry right around that time of the month?

Weight: 190 – Pounds left to lose: 30

January 6, 2007 at 10:04 am

Down two pounds this week on the weekly weigh-in. We’ve hit a number that ends in a 0, so what does that mean, children? Anyone? Yes, Lucy, you raised your hand first. Why yes, that’s right. It’s time to take the digital camera off the shelf and make some more progress photos. Look for them by Monday. Lucy, you get a gold star.

I’d also like to thank everyone who posts comments on the blog. You’ve been particularly heartwarming lately and if you don’t cut it out my left ventricle is going to burst into flames. I know you keep telling me I’m inspiring, but you guys are pretty inspiring too. I am rubber, you are glue. But if someday I develop an enormous ego, it will be completely your fault. You keep telling a girl she’s wonderful and she might start to believe it. Which is why you should tell people they are wonderful. So frequently people who want to lose weight will bash themselves and cut themselves down, but it’s when you think you are worth the effort of self-improvement that you have a chance of getting somewhere. So thanks to everyone for reminding me that I’m worth it.