On Monday I accidentally snoozed through bootcamp. The kids were home, and because of the holiday they didn’t have to get on the bus at the butt crack of dawn. So I slept.
And then I felt guilty. Because Matt was home, and could have watched the kids while I worked out. I shouldn’t have missed bootcamp.
I was determined to make it up later when I met McMuscles at the YMCA for our weight lifting workout.
And yes, normally I work out twice on Mondays. That’s just the routine I’ve fallen into. But yesterday, I had to pack 2 workouts into 1.
So I met up with McMuscles about 5:30, and we dug right in.
First were the incline leg press thingys. I do not know the technical terms for stuff like this, but it’s a machine/movement I’ve done before. No big whoop, but I’ve started realizing that I’m not pushing myself too much on increasing the weights. I’m just tearing the weight levels I know I can hit.
Last night, however, with the feeling of No-Bootcamp remorse hanging thick in the air, I decided to change things up.
“3 plates of 45 pounds please.”
It was like I was ordering bulk fast food.
And I pushed. Pushed and pushed. It was hard. My face turned red. But I did it.
We rotated through McMuscles, then Greg, and it was me again.
3 plates of 45 was tough, but not IMPOSSIBLE.
“Four 45’s, please.”
McMuscles kinda looked at me funny.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“YES SIR. I’M SURE.”
And it was the heaviest weight I have ever done on that stupid incline press. It HURT. But I could do it. After I got 12 repetitions in, I admitted defeat and stopped. But I had gone up. And my legs had hit failure.
The next muscle group on the agenda was chest muscles. I like these, because they are fighting against the natural effect of gravity. In otherwords, my hanging orbs are not hanging quite so low these days. I can easily see my bellybutton and kneecaps without lifting or moving anything.
The boys were busy on bench presses, but because I do such light weights, I can easily do the same motion with dumbbells and a bench. So that’s what I did.
I grabbed the 10 lb. dumbbells and worked those puppies. Up and down, up and down. Took a break. THEN I grabbed the 15 pounders. Up and down, up and down. I was a machine. In total, I did 4 sets of 15-25. My arms were like jelly.
Next round- THE SUPERSET.
I both love and loathe supersets, because they are hard as heck to do, it’s intense, and after they are done, I feel GREAT. But getting them done is tough.
The superset combo- dips (for my triceps) and chest flies (for my saggies). One set, then switch to the next. Then back again. Ug. It hurt hurt hurt!
But I was pushing and breathing through the pain.
It’s a lot like labor, except I was giving birth to a new me. And I can live through the pain to do that.
Finally, I was on my last exercise. McMuscles saw that a new machine had appeared. One that completely puzzled me. Honestly, I can’t even find a picture or video of this thing. So I made one this morning after bootcamp (hence the sweat covered shirt and red face).
I don’t know what the machine is called, but the exercise I am demonstrating on it here is called a “Good Morning.”
The problem was NOT that I was unable to master this exercise. Because as you can see from the video, I do it just fine.
My issue was with my apparel. My shirt to be exact. See, I was wearing this shirt I got at the Kmart for $1.75, and it’s got a low scoopy neckline. Which is no big deal when you are going out to dinner. Or doing laundry.
It IS A PROBLEM when you are doing good mornings.
Because as you go down, the neckline sort of swoops away from you. Like a bird trying to leave the nest. Or when you have a greased pig in your hands. There’s no stopping it. But I was too involved with my workout to worry about my shirt.
At first when I did these movements, McMuscles was standing on the side of me.
“Just let your arms free fall. Don’t put them behind your head. Just let them hang and stretch your back out.”
So that’s exactly what I did.
Until he stepped in FRONT of me doing the good mornings, and (with all the tact in the world and a completely straight face) said, “Maybe go ahead and cross your arms over your chest. REALLY TIGHTLY.”
“Oh,” I stated, “is that to get a better workout?”
“Sure,” McMuscles replied, “But mostly to keep your shirt in the right place.”
And it slowly began to sink in what had just occurred. Every time I had flopped down, my shirt was exposing my chest for all the gym to see. And as I looked up, there were several people looking away instantly and snickering.
Needless to say, that shirt was not the value find I thought it was.
Well, not for ME anyway…
maybe the guys at the gym thought the free show was good...
Sometimes I think this kinda stuff happens only to me. Has anyone else had a crazy wardrobe malfunction like this?