No Pain, No....need for Advil
This time it might actually stick…the gym commitment that is.I know some people look at “the gym” as more of a social environment then anything else, but it’s really not the case for me. I am a social retard, for starters. Weightlifting is the one and only real form of exercise I like and can get into. And I’ve tried others. Let's review, shall we?
A. I hate to jog/run. I mean, REALLY despise it. I’ve yet to experience a “runner’s high”….I think it’s that point they reach as they are passing out in the gutter and the world is spinning around them. And I’ve TRIED to run. I have. However, I’ve accepted the fact that I only run in two situations. 1. For sports. 2. When being chased.
B. My days of aerobics are over. Long past are the evenings when my friend Stacy would drag me from our apartment complex, across the street, to the elementary school, so we could participate in the ancient 80’s tribal dance of the out-of-shape. I don’t ever again see myself standing in a gymnasium amongst all shapes, sizes, ages and hair styles of women. A veritable sea of pastel shorts, shirts and legwarmers performing our choreographed steps like the Solid Gold dancers while “Rock Steady” warbles from the speakers of the boom box in the acoustically challenged venue.
C. I was never one for the exercise balls and giant rubber bands that provide resistance and all that shit. Once you’ve rolled off the side of one of those balls with 15 people watching you or had one of those rubber bands slip from your sneaker and snap against the inside of your thigh, you don’t want to relive it. Better to slink/limp off to the locker room, leaving your pride on the floor, disguised as a puddle of sweat.
D. Anything with the name Richard Simmons attached to it sends me screaming from the room.
E. I even tried Pilates once…what the fuck? I think Pilates is Greek for “torture rack”.
F. And yoga…good God! This is supposed to help me relax and find balance while toning my ass into a surface off which you could bounce quarters? (You know, that comes in handy when you want to play quarters and can’t find a table.) I almost passed out trying to get my breathing correct…and I’ve been breathing on my own for a long damn time so I’m still not sure how I’ve been doing it “wrong”.
Instructor: “You’re not breathing correctly”
Me: “Then explain to me, Kiki, how the fuck I manage to function every damn day?”
Instructor: “Get out. And take your milkshake with you.”
Me: (defensively) “It’s NOT a milkshake, it’s a PRO-TEIN drink!”
Instructor: “In a McDonald’s cup?! Get out. Now.”
I hope her leotard gives her a hemorrhoid. Breathe-right Bitch.
But weightlifting….I love it. And for all those women who come into a gym whining, “but I don’t want to get too big” – if you knew the sheer amount of work it would take to get “too big”, you would never say that again. It’s very hard for most women to get that way without drugs involved. And the muscles don't pop out while you sleep. So when you get to a point where you like how you look....you can choose to maintain that. Besides, it's good for preventing osteoporosis.
The month-long break from the gym that I took 4 years ago was much needed and I feel refreshed and invigorated again. And sore. My shoulders are screaming and my calves hurt so bad that I look like old, fat Elvis when I walk.
"And we began to rock...(steady rock)...stea-dy....steady rockin' all night long (everybody rock steady now)...."
STEP TOUCH FORWARD 1-2-3-4!
WALK BACK 2-3-4
JIGGY WITH IT
HOPS RIGHT
AND LEFT!
GRAPEVINE 2-3-4
RIGHT STEP UP
AND BACK 3-4
GRAPEVINE!
KNEE RAISES 1-2-3-4
AGAIN! 2-3-4
LOW KICKS FORWARD
PONIES 2-3-4
GRAPEVINE!!! (They Loooove that grapevine)
posted by Cherry Indigo (Cindy) @ 1/05/2006 11:22:00 AM
2 Comments:
Sore. Tired. Need massage.
And I hear it never gets easier. Or, at least, it ain't supposed to.
Step, 2, 3, FLOOR.
You're funny. :)
I'm almost ashamed to admit this, but it eventually gets addictive...at least for me.
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