Sunday, November 11, 2012

That's THE PUMP

If I don't write up my workouts immediately after I do them, I forget pretty everything we did.

Which sucks, because we're doing cool stuff.

Thursday we did curls where I had to lie my upper arm against an inclined weight bench.  I'm describing it poorly, but it was totally something I'd seen in weight lifting movies.  I don't know why, but doing things that are recognizable exercises for crazy buff dudes always makes me feel good.  I get irrationally upset when we do things that don't feel...cool?  I don't know.

So, all of the carefully planned "this many of this" that my trainer laid out for me over the last two weeks have flown the mental coop.

This is the highlights reel:

-I can do about 38 kb swings in a minute.  The first time I did this my trainer insisted I counted wrong.  He counted for me the next round.  BOOM.  Five rounds of this made me kind of want to die, man.  But it also feels good.
-My legs feel about the same running 6mph as they do running 9.5mph (for quarter mile stretches).  My lungs are the limiting factor.  Also, 9.5mph on the treadmills we use suck, because I don't feel comfortable stretching out my stride.  I don't want to touch the front of the treadmill or fall off the back and [is it a humblebrag if I'm in no way humble?] my legs are long enough to be an issue sprinting on normal treadmills.
-My trainer finally got a bar, so once we get some plates I can go back to deadlifting like a bad ass motherfucker.



(My trainer is a giant dork)

Me:  My arms feel...not sore?  Like the skin is really tight.
Him:  That's THE PUMP!

And then he loaned me a DVD of Pumping Iron, which is going to be amazing.

To round out my swolucation I've been reading The Hulk comics, which are smart and snappy and so, so sad.  I want to swoop in an save both Banner and Hulk, and make everything okay.  Ug.

What else?

This blog is pretty much a fashion show of shirts I sweat through, so it probably doesn't come across that I spend my days in tank tops and jeans (casual office, no on site clients).  But Thursday I went to a trade show and had to pretend to be an adult.



Minus the "I took a picture of myself in a bathroom" aspect, I think I did okay.

Never fear, adulthood didn't last long.



(Note here about how adults can act ridiculous without being childish, blah blah blah, everyone knows that, pretzels are delicious, visible nose hair, piano)

Yesterday during football I:

-semi pulled a groin muscle.  Ish.  I don't know.  It hurt, now it hurts less.  I don't know the wussy terminology for these kind of aches and pains.
-jammed my thumb.  Catching the ball is hard you guys.  (note:  during a kick off the ball was coming toward me, and as I stared up at it I yelled out "It's....a football!"  I am both a wordsmith and a genius.  Yeah.  I don't know either.)
-Got fucking elbowed in the goddamn ear.  That shit hurts.  It still hurts.  I woke up a few times in the night because I rolled over to my left side and put pressure on the ear.  Mother fucker.  It's supposed to be two hand touch.  Lame.

I'm still hopelessly in love with playing.  I'm getting slightly better each week.  I'm getting more comfortable with my teammates.  I enjoy the challenge.  I enjoy being part of a group.  That's the big part.  Being part of something where people set aside time once a week and expect to see each other, and it's fun, but it's also a little bit important.  And if you don't show up, people miss you.  A club, but where the core membership is small enough that people care.  I've never really had that.  I tried to start my own little club in college, but people were more concerned with being college students.  It wasn't a slight on me.  I saw all my friends all the time.  There was wasn't a way to put some sort of club title on it.  I don't know.  It feels cool.  I feel special.  I like it.

Back to running, I guess:  In the past week I've proven to myself that I can still run far, and I still run (sort of not really because I didn't try too hard) fast.

This is where I shut up, nut up, lace up, and pound out some hard work again, right?  So why am I sitting on the couch typing this shit up instead of going outside and running?

Because I still don't want to.  I want to be awesome, but I don't want to do the work to be awesome.  I enjoy it when I'm running, but that hasn't translated yet to wanting to run.  I'm both stubborn and lazy, which has me at an impasse.  Stubborn Rose says "run, dipshit.  You'll enjoy it.  You're good at it.  Go prove it."  Lazy Rose was too busy watching old episodes of In Living Color (I found it on some spanish channel and now have 17 episodes on my DVR!) to respond.

So, there's that.  I like it still, but I don't really want to go do it.  Huh.




5 comments:

  1. I have to write down my workouts right after I complete them or else I forget as well.

    Those exercises that bodybuilders do are great for everyone. Just have to change the amount of weight and reps to your level. lol They make me feel good too :)

    9.5 on the treadmill. Your beastin it women!! Awesome. You'll get use to sprints on the treadmill. Well I'm short so I don't have a problem with my legs touching the front of the treadmill. haha

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  2. Can women pull groin muscles? I feel like that's an injury men get a lot but you don't hear about with women.

    I like the idea of being in a club. I don't have the time for it or a regular enough schedule but still.

    Go run! Don't be like me.

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  3. heheh you totally got photobombed...just saying

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  4. It's not sports unless you can pull a groin and it doesn't have to be yours!!!!

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  5. I'm still totally in love with the Trade Show outfit. Fabulous!

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