Wednesday, February 3

Tails from the SWAMP

OK, today has been a bit better than yesterday, but not that much. My morning yesterday consisted of getting kids to school early for music lessons, meeting Micky and Lee Ann at the YMCA, then to the Doctor’s office.

I will get back to what happened at the Y, but first--- I have to tell you that I was reminded at the doctor’s office that my last OB/GYN appointment was in ’08. SERIOUSLY??? I swear if I close my eyes that humiliation feels like no less than 2 weeks ago- in fact 2 weeks ago was about the time I finally got that sticky jelly off me they insist on using. I keep thinking I am on top of stuff like OBGYNs in my quest to be healthier. Apparently, I am falling short when it comes to stirrups. Selective memory is acceptable when speculums are involved, I think…

So, back to the Y. Micky’s daughter is taking this weight lifting class so she can start using the weight equipment. THAT MEANS Micky has discovered the proper way to use all of the machines that we usually flail on. And if Micky knows something you don’t, she is going to tell you about it. Normally it’s a charming quality, but yesterday- well, let me start from the beginning.

We got on the treadmill, where I did my usual incline of “Ridiculous,” the point at which my thighs and legs are usually begging for mercy after the first 10 minutes. So I was already good and worked up and the sweat was starting. Add to that my frustration about not losing a single pound from Monday to Tuesday, regardless of behaving, and I became a terror in the weight room. I attacked that treadmill like it was a chocolate cake with white homemade icing (my personal favorite). We hoofed it for about 20 minutes, and to be honest, with my period being so immanent (still waiting on Wednesday), I was what I like to call a space cadet. And since I was walking pretty much up a wall due to the intense incline, I jumped to my senses when Micky said “Hey! Stand up straight!” I jokingly said “Thanks, Mom!” and did stood up straight for the rest of my torture session on the dreadmill.

After that we hit the “Easy, girl” machines. They are called the “Lifestyle Machines” which makes them sound more approachable. And Micky now knows how to use them. Knowledge is power, right? Not today. Knowledge was downright dangerous.

It started with the leg machines. Micky said that she learned we are supposed to hold the weights up (or down, depending on the machine) for 2 seconds before we release the weight. In theory it makes sense. You are holding the muscles in motion longer to get better results.

However, in practice this makes it downright impossible to do the weights I have grown accustomed to lifting (yeah, the weights I have been accustomed to lifting twice last week… gimme a break!). So I had to pull back and lower the weight I was lifting. Yet the funny thing is that I felt like I worked twice as hard as I did last week! (And we all remember how sore I was last week!)

I ran into someone I know at the gym (who today at the grocery store asked to remain nameless. Smart lady! She’s got enough class and principles to know better than be associated with me!!!) and of course, Charlie and her big mouth got to yacking.

Now, talking while working out is important for 2 reasons. #1: I don’t want my heart rate so elevated that I can’t talk or carry on a breathy conversation. If I can’t talk, it’s too much. And #2: Talking helps distract you from your present agony. Twice when I was in labor, Tricky Nikki came in while I was in HARD labor, and she had me talking. My body relaxed and both times I pooped out a baby 30 minutes to an hour after she left. Talking makes extreme pain tolerable. (Incidentally, Nikki also pooped out a baby 30 minutes after I left the hospital while visiting with her when she was in labor with my nephew. Weird, huh?)

Anyway, extreme pain happens when Micky is making sure you are getting a proper workout on the Lifestyle Machines. She gives you this look that straightens you up. QUICK. She was working me good. And I was sweating buckets.

Consequently, I had a bad case of swamp boob. You all remember swamp boob, right? Well, I also got a bad case of swamp crotch. Same principle, different location. Equally disgusting, no matter where it is. To top it off, I was wearing light grey yoga pants that- while they are supposed to keep you cool- it keeps you cool by pulling sweat off your body and dropping said sweat on whatever is below you. Like a Lifestyle Machine bench. Leaving a wonderful mark on the bench that looks something like a wet curvy W.

So there I am at the YMCA, acting like a crazy person, working her butt off, leaving it glistening on the bench, and talking a mile a minute, looking like I peed my pants. Which technically, I kinda did with one good push on the inner thigh machine. But I dribbled a bit when I was helplessly spread eagle (much like being at the OBGYN in the stirrups!) on the machine. Micky threatened to take a picture. I threatened her right back if she did.

Now, enter in the woman who shall remain nameless. We had already been talking up a storm in the gym, and it was obvious that Lee Ann, Micky and I knew what we were doing (cause Micky was telling us how), so this very sweet lady asked me how to use that particular inner thigh machine. I got on the machine and showed her exactly how to use it, and stood up. That was when I saw my “ring of perspire” on the seat. She saw it too. Humiliation was inevitable, so I looked at her with apology in my eyes.

All I could do was say, “Sorry. I have butt sweat going on today.”

Leave it to me to sweat the truth.

** Charlie is going to be taking a bloggy vacation beginning this weekend. I hope to write you briefly to keep you updated, but due to the strenuous schedule of Tech Week for Talley’s Folly (Opens Friday February 11th. Have you got your tickets yet?) I will have to let something slide for a week. And since I go through so much underwear lately, it can’t be laundry. I will be returning on Monday Feb 15th as faithful as ever. Till then, the blog is gonna be hit and miss. Thanks for understanding, and I hope to have great things to tell you when I get back!**


Danielle said...

I can barely type I am laughing so hard!! Oh, sister! I know exactly what you mean. I hate getting off a machine because I always leave a little present behind.LOL I try and do a look and sweep before I get off. Look down, put the hand there and sweep it as I'm getting up. Usually gets all the evidence.;-)

I had lunch with my mom today, and she gave me permission to tell you this. Hehehe! We had finished eating and she said she'd eaten way to much. She was bloated and feeling it. I had gotten up from the table and was already beginning to walk out when she walked up to me and said. "I just farted." Uh, what? She said when she was getting up from the table, one slipped out! HAHAHAHA! One of the teenage boys at the table across from us, looked up and did a double take! When she told me, I laughed so hard, I'm sure the table, now 20 yards away heard me. I guess I have things to look forward to.

trimadsco said...

OMG, I don't know what's funnier - butt sweat or Danielle's mom's fart! LOL Hmmm, perhaps when I start the gym I will take a towel with me - b/c the way I sweat, I KNOW there will be evidence left (of my) behind!
Keep at it Charlie! And good luck w/ your practices! Wish I lived close enough to come enjoy the show!

Lee Ann said...

Charlie, everyone is putting down buttprints on those machines. Don't sweat it. LMAO!! I guess that's why we're supposed to wipe our machines off when we are done. If it helps you at all, it doesn't embarrASS me at all. Look at it this proves you are working out hard. Instead of feeling like you have to apologize, turn it around and be proud of it. A mark of accomplishment, so to speak.

-Lee Ann

Anne said...

Oh Charlie, after an emergency trip to the restroom (almost didn't make it, laughing too too hard), I was able to finish reading your saga. Too funny! You win the best Y experience, hands down!

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