This was the Valentine's Day edition of the three hour spin class. I wore my pink striped cycling shorts for the occasion. Rob wore his red cycling jersey. Cubby made cookies. I did not throw up or pass out. It didn't suck.
Music:
Love Doctor- It's not how good I make it, it's how I make it good.
Oh Isaac Hayes, if only you weren't a crazy scientologist.
I'm in loooooooooooove, I'm in loooooooooooove, I'm in looooooooooooove.
Donna Summer, you know I love disco.
Looooooooove shack! Tin Roof, rusted!
Spin class kareoke.
A few new treats for this class:
Power intervals.
30 seconds of all out sprinting as hard as you can as intense as you can. You know you're doing it right when your legs are on fire and you feel nauseous.
The rest of the time is spent recovering.
Monkey in the Middle
First song- steady work pace, second song- push it hard, third song- steady work pace.
And to keep us all entertained: logic problems. The class never did figure out what happened to Romeo and Juliet.
Taking today off so I can stop walking like a human Barbie doll what with my calves being so knotted.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Nausea Heartburn Indigestion
So last Tuesday I showed up for my first session with trainer Blaine. I had been feeling kind of weird, but okay. I got about halfway through before the random rolling nausea got too intense. Oddly enough, it was only really bad when doing things standing up, the ab work felt great.
The rest of the week I missed both crew workouts, missed my second trainer session, and had to shorten my PT sessions since even those brought nausea faster than stop and go traffic in a manual transmission truck.
Saturday, no spin class, no long run, no doing anything that started the world spinning.
This week I'm back on track with PT mostly, still feeling a bit weak, and made it to crew yesterday. I swear erging at an 18 is more frustrating than trying to run in Z2. I will never race at an 18, why do I have to practice in it? And if I'm at Z2 at a 22, why do I have to practice there?
At any rate, I made it through 30 minutes before discretion became the better part of valor and I left for the sake of the new burning pain I've been getting in the shoulder. According to the PT, it's sort of a lactic acid attack from bad posture and trying to stabilize the weak shoulder. So I'm supposed to lean back in my chair while working on the computer and keep it stretched.
The rest of the week I missed both crew workouts, missed my second trainer session, and had to shorten my PT sessions since even those brought nausea faster than stop and go traffic in a manual transmission truck.
Saturday, no spin class, no long run, no doing anything that started the world spinning.
This week I'm back on track with PT mostly, still feeling a bit weak, and made it to crew yesterday. I swear erging at an 18 is more frustrating than trying to run in Z2. I will never race at an 18, why do I have to practice in it? And if I'm at Z2 at a 22, why do I have to practice there?
At any rate, I made it through 30 minutes before discretion became the better part of valor and I left for the sake of the new burning pain I've been getting in the shoulder. According to the PT, it's sort of a lactic acid attack from bad posture and trying to stabilize the weak shoulder. So I'm supposed to lean back in my chair while working on the computer and keep it stretched.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Night and Day
This week's theme for spinning was Night and Day. As in: Sunday, Bloody, Sunday, Leavin' on the Midnight Train to Georgia, and Every Day is a Winding Road.
Also, as part of our homework, we were supposed to bring two jokes, at least one of which had to be clean. There were a lot of Jewish jokes, lawyer jokes, Catholic jokes, and blonde jokes. Most of which are not suitable for posting.
Huge bonus was that one of the ladies had made Mrs. Field's chocolate chunk cookies. Thanks to the hypoglycemia, I can't eat them, but they smelled amazing.
I had bought some Luna Moons to try out at spinning, since someone had brought Cliff Shots last week, and they treated me well. However, my moons were supposed to be pomegranate, which I love. Instead they tasted like cough syrup. Not in a good way either, like liquid amoxycillin.
My body then decided that it was going to be tormented with cold products, then it might as well be sick. Now I'm suffering dizzy spells, nausea, and insane hunger again. Awesome.
Which meant I missed my long run on Sunday.
Also, as part of our homework, we were supposed to bring two jokes, at least one of which had to be clean. There were a lot of Jewish jokes, lawyer jokes, Catholic jokes, and blonde jokes. Most of which are not suitable for posting.
Huge bonus was that one of the ladies had made Mrs. Field's chocolate chunk cookies. Thanks to the hypoglycemia, I can't eat them, but they smelled amazing.
I had bought some Luna Moons to try out at spinning, since someone had brought Cliff Shots last week, and they treated me well. However, my moons were supposed to be pomegranate, which I love. Instead they tasted like cough syrup. Not in a good way either, like liquid amoxycillin.
My body then decided that it was going to be tormented with cold products, then it might as well be sick. Now I'm suffering dizzy spells, nausea, and insane hunger again. Awesome.
Which meant I missed my long run on Sunday.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Because you can't spell petulant without PT
My PT practice is severely overbooked. That or they're blowing me off. Either way I'm not really making progress at this point and I'm a little pissed about it.
I could have stopped therapy about a month ago if I didn't care about things like rowing, swimming, or snapping my bra on my own. But I do care about these things, a lot.
The drama started about a month ago. Apparently they got really busy and overbooked. When booking my set of 4 weeks, I was told there weren't slots open and we would have to play it by ear. Then came a week where I only had one session that week, which could seriously compromise my rehab. After bitching and moaning on my part, and notifying my therapist, the receptionist was told to work me in. For the last two weeks I've been double booked with another patient meaning that I spend the first 45 minutes of an hour long session doing circuit training by myself then at the end the therapist stretches things out.
Today was the end of my patience. I had been double booked with one therapist, I showed up to my appointment only to be told I had been bumped to a third therapist whom I had never met before. Every time I switch therapists there's a catch-up period where they try to figure out what I should be doing, what's normal for me, what I should be doing at home ...
I had also already told them that I would be trying to layer in activity as much as possible now that things are winding down. How do they know if swimming or rowing is causing damage or stability issues if they don't even know what my baseline is?
Most of all I'm irritated because this was all without notice. If they had told me this was how it was going to be when I booked my last set, I would have found a new practice and now it's too late.
I'm going to sit on it another day, and then talk to the ortho and get his opinion.
I could have stopped therapy about a month ago if I didn't care about things like rowing, swimming, or snapping my bra on my own. But I do care about these things, a lot.
The drama started about a month ago. Apparently they got really busy and overbooked. When booking my set of 4 weeks, I was told there weren't slots open and we would have to play it by ear. Then came a week where I only had one session that week, which could seriously compromise my rehab. After bitching and moaning on my part, and notifying my therapist, the receptionist was told to work me in. For the last two weeks I've been double booked with another patient meaning that I spend the first 45 minutes of an hour long session doing circuit training by myself then at the end the therapist stretches things out.
Today was the end of my patience. I had been double booked with one therapist, I showed up to my appointment only to be told I had been bumped to a third therapist whom I had never met before. Every time I switch therapists there's a catch-up period where they try to figure out what I should be doing, what's normal for me, what I should be doing at home ...
I had also already told them that I would be trying to layer in activity as much as possible now that things are winding down. How do they know if swimming or rowing is causing damage or stability issues if they don't even know what my baseline is?
Most of all I'm irritated because this was all without notice. If they had told me this was how it was going to be when I booked my last set, I would have found a new practice and now it's too late.
I'm going to sit on it another day, and then talk to the ortho and get his opinion.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Heaven and Hell
Another weekend, another 3 hour spin class.
This week's theme was good and bad. Literally. The music was stuff like "Heaven must be missing an angel", "Sympathy for the Devil", and the theme to Charlie's Angels.
I have to say, I love 80's music, but I LOVE disco. I'm white, really white, like the picture to the right was taken on Labor Day. After a whole summer to turn say, ecru, or oatmeal, or eggshell. But not so white that I won't sing along to Donna Summer. Bad girls, I'm talking about the sad girls ...
This week's class was easier in terms of my overall fitness, but harder in that we were doing pyramids of effort, and it got a little monotonous. And dating New Boy means not amusing myself by checking out guys at the gym.
Sunday I dragged New Boy to the gym where I did pyramids on the treadmill. It was exhausting, but a good workout. One which could only be rewarded by chips, salsa, and ice cream.
Heavenly.
This week's theme was good and bad. Literally. The music was stuff like "Heaven must be missing an angel", "Sympathy for the Devil", and the theme to Charlie's Angels.
I have to say, I love 80's music, but I LOVE disco. I'm white, really white, like the picture to the right was taken on Labor Day. After a whole summer to turn say, ecru, or oatmeal, or eggshell. But not so white that I won't sing along to Donna Summer. Bad girls, I'm talking about the sad girls ...
This week's class was easier in terms of my overall fitness, but harder in that we were doing pyramids of effort, and it got a little monotonous. And dating New Boy means not amusing myself by checking out guys at the gym.
Sunday I dragged New Boy to the gym where I did pyramids on the treadmill. It was exhausting, but a good workout. One which could only be rewarded by chips, salsa, and ice cream.
Heavenly.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
New Year's Resolutions
Last year, all my resolutions were F'ed thanks to being injured. So we won't even revisit those since it makes me depressed.
This year I have only one, and I'm keeping it simple: Become a Gladiator on American Gladiators.
This may be my favorite show next to Burn Notice. It looks like the Most. Fun. Ever. It might even overtake Funded Mad Scientist as my dream job. To be clear, I don't want to be a contender, I want to be one of the Gladiators that tries to maim the contenders.
Top Ten Reasons Why American Gladiator is totally attainable:
10. I'm named after an action figure.
9. A silver lame 1980's asymmetrical cutout swimsuit is still more flattering than a crew unitard.
8. Swimming under 30 feet of fire is nothing compared to swimming through schools of stinging nettles (thanks TriAmerica).
7. I have a vacation home in Z5.
6. Flying down a zipwire onto a mattress is easy compared to getting off a ski lift with a snowboard and hitting East Coast ice.
5. Gauntlet, still easier than a triathlon swim.
4. Running uphill on the downhill treadmill easier than biking at Prince William Park.
3. New shoulder built by Cyberdyne Systems.
2. King of the Mountain challenge easier than negotiating DC government contracting.
1. One word: JOUST.
I'm sure there are things that would suck, that time of the month, helmet hair, letting some buffy win for ratings, but every job has it's drawbacks.
This year I have only one, and I'm keeping it simple: Become a Gladiator on American Gladiators.
This may be my favorite show next to Burn Notice. It looks like the Most. Fun. Ever. It might even overtake Funded Mad Scientist as my dream job. To be clear, I don't want to be a contender, I want to be one of the Gladiators that tries to maim the contenders.
Top Ten Reasons Why American Gladiator is totally attainable:
10. I'm named after an action figure.
9. A silver lame 1980's asymmetrical cutout swimsuit is still more flattering than a crew unitard.
8. Swimming under 30 feet of fire is nothing compared to swimming through schools of stinging nettles (thanks TriAmerica).
7. I have a vacation home in Z5.
6. Flying down a zipwire onto a mattress is easy compared to getting off a ski lift with a snowboard and hitting East Coast ice.
5. Gauntlet, still easier than a triathlon swim.
4. Running uphill on the downhill treadmill easier than biking at Prince William Park.
3. New shoulder built by Cyberdyne Systems.
2. King of the Mountain challenge easier than negotiating DC government contracting.
1. One word: JOUST.
I'm sure there are things that would suck, that time of the month, helmet hair, letting some buffy win for ratings, but every job has it's drawbacks.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Water, water everywhere ...
Ran (liberal use of the term) around Burke Lake today. It was nice out if ridiculously windy.
Things I managed to forget: my inhaler, a water bottle.
I thought several times about mugging another runner for their water, except it would have involved outrunning them.
New boy ran with me partially due to a really crappy couple of days for us. I feel like crying should burn a lot of calories, it's so physically exhausting. Anyways, I'm glad I didn't run with the group this weekend, there's no way I could have done the slated seven miles.
Things I managed to forget: my inhaler, a water bottle.
I thought several times about mugging another runner for their water, except it would have involved outrunning them.
New boy ran with me partially due to a really crappy couple of days for us. I feel like crying should burn a lot of calories, it's so physically exhausting. Anyways, I'm glad I didn't run with the group this weekend, there's no way I could have done the slated seven miles.
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