so, I am still alive, barely... longest 30 minutes of my life... But I survived baby! I may have been drenched with sweat, purple in the face and whimpering at times, but I made it and did 45 minutes of cardio after that. When I asked Bikki if there was a name for this type of workout, he just smiled and said "I'll write it down for you." I, being quite caught up in the moment, said "This must the the Oh Lord, kill me now! workout that you keep telling me about"... He said "no, you're not ready for that yet.
So, later, when I was on the treadmill, I took a look in my workout log book. At the top of the page he had written, Hell on Earth, Part 1.
Can someone come over to roll me out of bed tomorrow morning.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Time to get serious
Time to get Serious
For those of you following my journey to fitness, you no doubt are seeing a few patterns emerging. One is that in spite of my humorous account in the blog, I am taking this whole thing seriously, and the other is that I need to LEARN TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
At my most recent training session, Bikki (My trainer) (Geeze if you don’t know that by now, you have not read back far enough in my blog! C’mon, get up to speed, or not much from this point forward will make sense. ‘Nuff said about that.)
Anyway, I was showing Bikki the results of my fitness assessment, and he seemed pleased. I say “seemed” because Bikki does not tend to show much emotion. He just sort of grunts and nods or frowns. I assume that nodding means “Way to go Jan!” and frowning means “If you don’t stop whining, I will crush you like a bug.” Personally, I prefer the nods.
So, Bikki grunts and nods, and even says “nice”. Then he turns to me and says “O.k., it’s time we get serious here. Next workout, we’re going to kick things up a notch.”
OMG!!!!!!!! Time to get serious???? WTF!!!!!!!!! I thought that doing 75 squats, with 3 minutes of stair stepping after 25 reps was fairly serious. I consider going back and forth from doing 20 ab crunches to 20 leg extensions (with 65 pounds of weight) without stopping to catch my breath and then doing another 3 minutes of stair stepping to be a noteworthy effort. And what about those 60 leg presses I did, pushing 160 pounds with my fat little legs… is that not what one might consider significant? (not to mention 30 minutes of steep hill race-walking afterwards.)
So, what do you think I said to Bikki, when he told me it’s time we get serious? See if you can choose: Did I say…
1. Why Bikki, whatever do you mean by “serious?” Or
2. WTF do you mean “serious?”Or, did I look him right in the eye and curl my upper lip and say:
3. “Bring it, Bikki.”
(actually it was a combination of 2 and 3)
Yes, that’s right. I have brought certain death upon myself, because my mouth always wants to write a cheque that my ass can’t cash.
For those of you who work with me, if I don’t show up for work on Friday, check the hospital and failing that, the morgue.
For those of you following my journey to fitness, you no doubt are seeing a few patterns emerging. One is that in spite of my humorous account in the blog, I am taking this whole thing seriously, and the other is that I need to LEARN TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
At my most recent training session, Bikki (My trainer) (Geeze if you don’t know that by now, you have not read back far enough in my blog! C’mon, get up to speed, or not much from this point forward will make sense. ‘Nuff said about that.)
Anyway, I was showing Bikki the results of my fitness assessment, and he seemed pleased. I say “seemed” because Bikki does not tend to show much emotion. He just sort of grunts and nods or frowns. I assume that nodding means “Way to go Jan!” and frowning means “If you don’t stop whining, I will crush you like a bug.” Personally, I prefer the nods.
So, Bikki grunts and nods, and even says “nice”. Then he turns to me and says “O.k., it’s time we get serious here. Next workout, we’re going to kick things up a notch.”
OMG!!!!!!!! Time to get serious???? WTF!!!!!!!!! I thought that doing 75 squats, with 3 minutes of stair stepping after 25 reps was fairly serious. I consider going back and forth from doing 20 ab crunches to 20 leg extensions (with 65 pounds of weight) without stopping to catch my breath and then doing another 3 minutes of stair stepping to be a noteworthy effort. And what about those 60 leg presses I did, pushing 160 pounds with my fat little legs… is that not what one might consider significant? (not to mention 30 minutes of steep hill race-walking afterwards.)
So, what do you think I said to Bikki, when he told me it’s time we get serious? See if you can choose: Did I say…
1. Why Bikki, whatever do you mean by “serious?” Or
2. WTF do you mean “serious?”Or, did I look him right in the eye and curl my upper lip and say:
3. “Bring it, Bikki.”
(actually it was a combination of 2 and 3)
Yes, that’s right. I have brought certain death upon myself, because my mouth always wants to write a cheque that my ass can’t cash.
For those of you who work with me, if I don’t show up for work on Friday, check the hospital and failing that, the morgue.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Do Pigs Sweat? Appearantly not so much
This entry is courtesy of my daughter Holly, who among many other accomplishments has a Bachelor's degree in Agriculture
"All animals keep cool, but some animals keep cooler than others," one of Animal Farm's politicians might be heard to grunt.
Like all warm-blooded mammals, swine (to be precise, "pig" refers solely to young swine) need to maintain a balanced body temperature. For many mammals, humans included, sweating is a useful way of keeping off the heat. Sweat cools because the evaporation of water requires energy, and when we sweat that energy gets sapped from body heat.
Pigs do have a few sweat glands, but they're not very useful for temperature adjustment. When the mercury rises on the farm, Wilber wallows in cool water or mud, which has the same evaporation effect as sweating.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Ta Daaaaaaa!
O.k. I have got to toot the 'ol horn here.... cause I ROCK!!!!
Get this: I lost 10 pounds. And according to the gizmo thingy that I squeeze in my hands, I have also lost 2% body fat. I also lost a total of 10 inches!!! (5 inches off my waist alone!) wahoooooooooo!
and if that wasn't good enough, I increased my over all upper and lower body strength, and my flexibility.
Cardio sucked a bit, but that's to be expected. I had to do these step-ups for 3 minutes, which maybe sounds like no big deal, but don't forget, I'm lifting my entire body weight straight up for 1.5 minutes on each leg as many times as I can... it's freakin hard! I still did an entire work out after the assessment, including 30 minutes of intense hills. Anyway, I'm going to have Bikki add another level to the stepper so I can work on that. I couldn't help but notice that Steve pursed his lips and shook his head as he muttered "tsk tsk" and recorded my cardio results. That cannot happen again.
Over all, Steve was very impressed! (And perhaps a little scared????)
So, next goal... I intend to lose another 8 pounds by my next assessment 4 weeks from now. And I intend to rock that cardio test. Go Jan-an, go Jan-an.
Get this: I lost 10 pounds. And according to the gizmo thingy that I squeeze in my hands, I have also lost 2% body fat. I also lost a total of 10 inches!!! (5 inches off my waist alone!) wahoooooooooo!
and if that wasn't good enough, I increased my over all upper and lower body strength, and my flexibility.
Cardio sucked a bit, but that's to be expected. I had to do these step-ups for 3 minutes, which maybe sounds like no big deal, but don't forget, I'm lifting my entire body weight straight up for 1.5 minutes on each leg as many times as I can... it's freakin hard! I still did an entire work out after the assessment, including 30 minutes of intense hills. Anyway, I'm going to have Bikki add another level to the stepper so I can work on that. I couldn't help but notice that Steve pursed his lips and shook his head as he muttered "tsk tsk" and recorded my cardio results. That cannot happen again.
Over all, Steve was very impressed! (And perhaps a little scared????)
So, next goal... I intend to lose another 8 pounds by my next assessment 4 weeks from now. And I intend to rock that cardio test. Go Jan-an, go Jan-an.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Time to Face the Music
This Saturday, January 17, at 10:00 a.m., I face the dreaded fitness assessment with Steve.
Steve is this guy at the gym who kinda talked me into signing on for 8 monthly training sessions for the next year at a cost of $200 per month. I'm not at all sorry that I made that decision, 'cause me and my pal Bikki (my trainer) are working my A** off... literally.
When I met Steve for my first "fitness assessment", it was really more of a "out-of-shape assessment" where he basically informed me that I am middle-aged, obese and on death's door if I don't take drastic measures such as signing up for a year of twice weekly training sessions. My pride was kinda hurt, and so was every muscle in my body, as part of the "fitness assessment" entailed a 40 minute grueling work out which ALMOST did kill me. I know that he enjoyed every moment. Perhaps it was something I said, like "bring it!" when he first called to schedule my "fitness assessment." Seriously, I have GOT to learn to keep my mouth shut.
After the workout and the dire predictions of my certain demise, I was asked to set my fitness goals. Having been tortured and yelled at by Steve, the only thing on my mind was revenge, so I wrote down "to get fit enough to kick Steve's ass." Seriously, it's in my file at the gym. (Let's hope someone else doesn't get to him first, 'cause, I kinda said it out loud too, and in front of witnesses. And I may have even repeated it a few times since then.)
So, this Saturday, Steve and I meet yet again, to "assess my progress." (please imagine a sneer on my face.) I know I have lost weight, my clothing is looser, my jowls are shrinking and my boobs don't try to escape from ANY of my bra's now. So I am confident that Steve will have to give me some prop's for my hard work. Oh, he'll talk a good game, and say stuff like "C'mon you big baby, you can do 5 more push up's!" or "Suck it up Princess..." or other inspirational stuff. but deep down, Steve will be afraid, very afraid.
Stay Tuned!
Steve is this guy at the gym who kinda talked me into signing on for 8 monthly training sessions for the next year at a cost of $200 per month. I'm not at all sorry that I made that decision, 'cause me and my pal Bikki (my trainer) are working my A** off... literally.
When I met Steve for my first "fitness assessment", it was really more of a "out-of-shape assessment" where he basically informed me that I am middle-aged, obese and on death's door if I don't take drastic measures such as signing up for a year of twice weekly training sessions. My pride was kinda hurt, and so was every muscle in my body, as part of the "fitness assessment" entailed a 40 minute grueling work out which ALMOST did kill me. I know that he enjoyed every moment. Perhaps it was something I said, like "bring it!" when he first called to schedule my "fitness assessment." Seriously, I have GOT to learn to keep my mouth shut.
After the workout and the dire predictions of my certain demise, I was asked to set my fitness goals. Having been tortured and yelled at by Steve, the only thing on my mind was revenge, so I wrote down "to get fit enough to kick Steve's ass." Seriously, it's in my file at the gym. (Let's hope someone else doesn't get to him first, 'cause, I kinda said it out loud too, and in front of witnesses. And I may have even repeated it a few times since then.)
So, this Saturday, Steve and I meet yet again, to "assess my progress." (please imagine a sneer on my face.) I know I have lost weight, my clothing is looser, my jowls are shrinking and my boobs don't try to escape from ANY of my bra's now. So I am confident that Steve will have to give me some prop's for my hard work. Oh, he'll talk a good game, and say stuff like "C'mon you big baby, you can do 5 more push up's!" or "Suck it up Princess..." or other inspirational stuff. but deep down, Steve will be afraid, very afraid.
Stay Tuned!
Song of my Aging Body
Song of my Aging Body
I celebrate my breath and sing my breath and what I assume you shall do if I have no breath is restart my heart with electric shock as the treadmill whirs and hums a song of ironic demise
For every moment belonging to me is as good as gone if you tarry too long with concerns of
liability and litigation.
I loaf and invite a bowl of greasy chips to pass my lips as I ignore my heart's pleading "No more!"
Oh body thou has betrayed my trust. A sniff of cake increases my bust an inch or more and gravity drags them towards the floor.
Laughter lines and wrinkles appear out of thin air in concert with my graying hair and my jaw slowly dissolves into jowls; so unjust are you, my aging body.
But all is not as it appears to be. Below the surface of my sagging skin there are forces to be reckoned with that will soon begin to show their might.
Muscles forming, tightness, uprightness, righteous strength! My heart grows stronger, my resolve grows stronger and I grow stronger bit by bit.
Age reversing, start rehearsing for the next chorus, give myself a hand.
It ain't over 'til the fat lady thins.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wrong Bra, Wrong Day
So, it's been almost 4 weeks since I joined the gym. I work out 3 times a week, twice with my "personal" trainer Bikki. Yeah, that's right, Bikki. Now before you giggle at his name, you need to meet this guy. He's a head and shoulder taller than me and all muscle. I doubt he gets very much flack from the other trainers, because he could crush their skulls with his biceps... if he wanted to.
Bikki has decided that I am a tough old broad, so he shows me NO mercy. The first time we worked out together, he grabbed one of those stepper things that you see the skinny girls using in the aerobics gym. I thought he was going to sit on it while I worked out, but he just points at is after I complete a set and says "20 times on the stepper, let's go."
And he lies!!!! He'll say 30, and just when I'm about done he'll say 10 more. Or, just for giggles, he'll add in a 4th set of some exercise just so he can make me do another set of step ups! It's my fault, because I said something about not taking it easy on me because of my gender and age. I have got to learn to shut my mouth.
So, there's me, gasping for breath, sweating like a pig (DO pigs really sweat? Somebody research that and post a comment), jiggling like a Thanksgiving Jelly mould, with a reddish/purple hue to my face. Such an attractive look. Could a girl possibly look less attractive? Sadly, I have to report that YES she can.
The other day, I went to the gym of one of my Bikki free days. I realized once I got there, that I had worn my push-up bra that day, and had failed to put a more "appropriate" foundation garments into my gym bag. This gym is a long distance from my home, so going back was not an option. I figure, what the heck... there's lots of girls around here who wear their push bra's under their gym clothes... no big deal.
People, I have to tell you it WAS A BIG DEAL! First of all, those girls are not really wearing push up bra's, their breasts actually push up naturally, if not surgically. Perky, firm boobs tend to bounce and sway to a degree but for the most part they point forward and upward.
That ship sailed a loooong time ago for me. I have 50 year old boobs... which need specially designed foundation (they call it that for a reason) garments to contain them. So, activities such as running on a treadmill, using a stepper, crunches, or any of those bending over exercises cause my "girls" to FLOP, BULGE or BOING all over the place. Seriously, the "girls" were completely out of control. At one point, I had to make an adjustment, to sort them back into their proper compartments, so I kind of did the grab and scoop thing that generally sorts things out. Then I notice the guy across the aisle from me is staring, so I give him the "wink and a gun", just to establish some solidarity... you know, "hey, it happens to the best of us... feel free to adjust your nuts if necessary." He just looked away.
Anyhoo... Wrong Bra, Wrong Day... with all the extra action I got that day, I am sure that I burned at least a 100 calories. From now on, I'll be bringing my Iron Maiden Form Bra.
Before I sign off, I must give you progress report: I have lost 7 pounds, and am now able to zip up my skinny jeans without laying down and using a coat hanger. I'm coming for you Little Black Dress...
Bikki has decided that I am a tough old broad, so he shows me NO mercy. The first time we worked out together, he grabbed one of those stepper things that you see the skinny girls using in the aerobics gym. I thought he was going to sit on it while I worked out, but he just points at is after I complete a set and says "20 times on the stepper, let's go."
And he lies!!!! He'll say 30, and just when I'm about done he'll say 10 more. Or, just for giggles, he'll add in a 4th set of some exercise just so he can make me do another set of step ups! It's my fault, because I said something about not taking it easy on me because of my gender and age. I have got to learn to shut my mouth.
So, there's me, gasping for breath, sweating like a pig (DO pigs really sweat? Somebody research that and post a comment), jiggling like a Thanksgiving Jelly mould, with a reddish/purple hue to my face. Such an attractive look. Could a girl possibly look less attractive? Sadly, I have to report that YES she can.
The other day, I went to the gym of one of my Bikki free days. I realized once I got there, that I had worn my push-up bra that day, and had failed to put a more "appropriate" foundation garments into my gym bag. This gym is a long distance from my home, so going back was not an option. I figure, what the heck... there's lots of girls around here who wear their push bra's under their gym clothes... no big deal.
People, I have to tell you it WAS A BIG DEAL! First of all, those girls are not really wearing push up bra's, their breasts actually push up naturally, if not surgically. Perky, firm boobs tend to bounce and sway to a degree but for the most part they point forward and upward.
That ship sailed a loooong time ago for me. I have 50 year old boobs... which need specially designed foundation (they call it that for a reason) garments to contain them. So, activities such as running on a treadmill, using a stepper, crunches, or any of those bending over exercises cause my "girls" to FLOP, BULGE or BOING all over the place. Seriously, the "girls" were completely out of control. At one point, I had to make an adjustment, to sort them back into their proper compartments, so I kind of did the grab and scoop thing that generally sorts things out. Then I notice the guy across the aisle from me is staring, so I give him the "wink and a gun", just to establish some solidarity... you know, "hey, it happens to the best of us... feel free to adjust your nuts if necessary." He just looked away.
Anyhoo... Wrong Bra, Wrong Day... with all the extra action I got that day, I am sure that I burned at least a 100 calories. From now on, I'll be bringing my Iron Maiden Form Bra.
Before I sign off, I must give you progress report: I have lost 7 pounds, and am now able to zip up my skinny jeans without laying down and using a coat hanger. I'm coming for you Little Black Dress...
Thursday, January 8, 2009
My Little Black Dress
It all started with a Little Black Dress. What possessed me to buy it, I'll never know. It just looked so...SEXY!!! Trouble is, the highest size this cute little number comes in is a size 14(regular size, not plus). 14??? I havn't seen size 14 since I was dating my husband 20 years ago.
But still the dress wooed me, calling out with her coy little voice, "You can be a size 14 again, really! If you buy me, your life will change. You will attract admirer's from around the world who will marvel at your stunning beauty. Buy me. Bye me now! (I also though I heard a laugh that sounded something like this: BWAHAHAHAHA, but that's just silly, dresses can't laugh.)
Anyway, I bought this little black dress, for a pretty penny I might add and now she hangs in my closet, mocking me, rolling her eyes every time I swing open the door. None of my other clothes are willing to hang around with her (yes, her... it's a woman's dress, after all.) They all migrate over to the dark side of the closet and cower in her mighty presence.
So, here's the deal... I've got to lose weight! I figure that there are 2 things that will motivate me to do that. First of all, I'm not going to let some sexy little black dress intimidate me! I am strong, confident, and most of all, I can't live with myself for spending that kind of coin unless I can wear the damn thing. And that brings me to my 2nd point: I will make better use of a really expensive gym membership/training package than a Curves membership that costs a paltry $35.00 a month. Ahh guilt... the great motivator! So I've signed up for a $250.00 per month gym/personal trainer membership, and I'm fixing to lose 60 pounds!
Will our heroine (that's me) overcome the tyranny of the little black dress? (Heretofore known as LBD.) Can she overcome her midnight cookie cravings? Can she work her ass off (literally)? Stay tuned!
But still the dress wooed me, calling out with her coy little voice, "You can be a size 14 again, really! If you buy me, your life will change. You will attract admirer's from around the world who will marvel at your stunning beauty. Buy me. Bye me now! (I also though I heard a laugh that sounded something like this: BWAHAHAHAHA, but that's just silly, dresses can't laugh.)
Anyway, I bought this little black dress, for a pretty penny I might add and now she hangs in my closet, mocking me, rolling her eyes every time I swing open the door. None of my other clothes are willing to hang around with her (yes, her... it's a woman's dress, after all.) They all migrate over to the dark side of the closet and cower in her mighty presence.
So, here's the deal... I've got to lose weight! I figure that there are 2 things that will motivate me to do that. First of all, I'm not going to let some sexy little black dress intimidate me! I am strong, confident, and most of all, I can't live with myself for spending that kind of coin unless I can wear the damn thing. And that brings me to my 2nd point: I will make better use of a really expensive gym membership/training package than a Curves membership that costs a paltry $35.00 a month. Ahh guilt... the great motivator! So I've signed up for a $250.00 per month gym/personal trainer membership, and I'm fixing to lose 60 pounds!
Will our heroine (that's me) overcome the tyranny of the little black dress? (Heretofore known as LBD.) Can she overcome her midnight cookie cravings? Can she work her ass off (literally)? Stay tuned!
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