Not FAIR!

Why is it that you take a week off and everything goes right to hell?

I don't mean a week off from work.  I worked all week.  Mostly in San Antonio, sure, but I still managed to get most of my e-mails.

I didn't take a week off from school.  I wish.

I didn't take a week off from my kids.  I wouldn't want that. 

I had to take a week off from working out.

I HAD to.

I was in San Antonio Wednesday thru Friday, For WORK.

I know I should have Skyped.  Shaddap.

Then Saturday was Luke's birthday. 

Sunday I had to do something really important.  I forget what it was but I know it was important.

Monday Joe had an eye appointment, I had to meet with my professor, and I had LOADS of laundry to do.

Tuesday I had to give a presentation about Burroughs Wellcome's pricing of Retrovir in the 1990s. 

That pretty much sucked the life right out of me.

So today -- Wednesday -- I went back to the gym.

I actually tried to get out of it.  Clarissa is out of town, so I wasn't sure if Vic could take me. 

He's a busy man.

So I texted him:  "Can I come in today or would you rather me come tomorrow?"

He texted back:  "Get your ass in here."

Guess he's not too busy for me, bless him.

In typical Vic fashion, he made me do owie this and hurty that until I was sweaty and red and panting. 

I had to do explosive push ups.  Lots of them. 

Explosive push ups are when you push your whole body off the floor from a push up position.  Then you have to catch your body when you land.  My whole body weighs in the neighborhood of 244 -248 lbs.  (Shaddap).  That's a lot of exploding.

I had to do jumping jacks.

Only my knees are old lady knees, so I have to do low impact jumping jacks. 

Low impact does not mean low intensity.

Bastard.

Anyway. . .here's the problem:  The jumping jacks are in front of a mirror.  Sometimes the mirror is my friend.  It shows me how strong I've become. 

Know what the mirror shows when you take a week off?

Jiggles.

Jiggly arms. Jiggly belly. Jiggly thighs. The fat pockets under my knees were jiggling.

WTF?

Haven't I been mostly faithfully working out 4-6 times a week for a YEAR?

One piddly week off and my friggin knees jiggle?

Fuck.

Vic just texted me again:  "I expect you at 5:30 tomorrow.  No excuses".

NO FAIR

Like a Virgin

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you know that I work out at V-Fit Studio.  You know that Gabe "The Silent Assassin" is my primary trainer and the studio is owned by Victor.

Handsome Victor.  Dreamy Victor. Victor the Giver. 

Vic the Basterd. 

Last week, Gabe wasn't feeling well, so I did my workout with Vic.  Vic, true to form, came up with a deceptively simple workout, then made me do 10 sets.  With suicides in between.  TEN sets.

Gabe only makes me do 5.

What the hell, it was only for a day.  Besides, Victor is funny, and he flirts, and he laughs at all my jokes.  It didn't hurt that bad. 

Then on Tuesday, Gabe is still not in, so Victor helps me again.  He gives me 10 lb weights and tells me what to do. 

I say "Actually, Gabe has me use 12 lbs on this one".

Victor smiles and says "trust me".

Uh oh.

Victor has an interesting new regimen. 

Low weight, high reps, no rest, many many many sets.

Many many MANY sets.

And no rest in between.

Whimper.

My arms are sore.  Not the pang of muscles pushed hard for a long time.  Not the sore that I get after Gabe puts me through my paces. 

My arms are sore as in I-have-never-worked-out-my-whole-life-and-I-think-I-overdid-it-my-first-time sore.  My muscles burned so much you could have lit a cigar with my shoulder. 

Haven't I been working out for OVER A YEAR?

Haven't I been doing things I could NEVER do before?  Like push ups from my toes, dips, walkouts and don't forget the Around-the-Fucking-Worlds.  Haven't I participated in TWELVE 5Ks?  Didn't I just WIN the CHALLENGE??????????????

Apparently, all that is behind me.

It would be OK if it was just for a day or two, while Gabe is out.

Apparently, Gabe is going to open the new facility on the Island.

Gabe got promoted.

Dammit. 

I mean, good for Gabe!  He deserves it!

So I get Victor.  Dreamy, Handsome, Sadistic Victor.

And I'm starting all over again.

Vic. And Gabe.  I know they are good looking, but DAMMIT!

First the Badgers Lose the Rose Bowl, . . .

Then I saw THIS on Facebook:




  So far, 2011 kinda sucks.