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Wellness

Pinned and pumped

September 1, 2015

I’ve openly embraced my blog addiction (that’s the first step to recovery, right?), and now it’s time to discuss the perks of my Pinterest one as well. I have thousands of recipes – paleo, Whole30, greasy, sweet, primal – you name it, but my pride and joy is the Work out, already board.

There’s some great stuff on there. And when I can’t make a class, and it’s not a run day and I’m not feeling a yoga flow, it’s fun to dip into my pins for a fresh option.

A quick synopsis of my faves you need to follow:

I am somewhat obsessed with Pumps & Iron. The workouts are easy to understand, pretty and pinnable, and juuuuust tough enough. I did this one last night and I gotta be honest, when it was over I felt like a big guy at a Vegas buffet; 100 percent satisfied. I might be so bold as to declare her my reigning fitness Pinterest princess.

Hollie and I have history. Our husbands were fraternity brothers, we’ve bonded over beers in smalltown bars and I’m truly proud of what she’s putting out there. Her Cardio Sculpt circuits are great for the days you don’t have a lot of time and you want to feel beautifully badass.

The thing that makes Karena and Katrina so attractive – aside from their obvious asssssssets – is their quirky, endearing banter. It truly feels like you’re getting your ass handed to you by a couple of girlfriends. And you can buy into their whole beachy keen lifestyle. The handsome fiances, muscle tightening as the tide rolls in, hard-earned cocktails in their freshly manicured grasps. They have their Instagram, blog, email and Pinterest game on point, and I so love swinging through this Kettleball video.

4.

I’m going to tell you flat out that POPSUGAR has perfected the art of the attention-grabbing blog title. Lose your love handles … beat bra bulge … drop weight without even trying … it’s a master class is hooking the reader. All that and the videos are dang good. I have a million on my board, of all different lengths and styles. It’s a mixed bag of brutal options, and for that reason, I’m super sweet on POPSUGAR.

Wellness

You bet your bottom … dollars

August 6, 2015

About a year after I had Spike, a group of coworkers decided to organize a weight loss challenge. The Ten By Ten Intense Weight Loss Challenge, I believe it was called. At that time in my life, I was in a body composition situation much like the one I find myself in now: About 85% of the way back to my pre-baby self, frustrated, lacking motivation and madly in love with sweets and sauces. The exact parameters of the competition are tied up in my memory – somewhere between the lyrics to Guess I’ll Go Eat Worms and the Flavor of the Day at Culver’s – but basically, we held these degrading weigh ins every Thursday morning and the first to hit a certain percentage of weight loss, won the majority of a somewhat sizable money pot.

These weigh ins went on for months. Interest dwindled. Contenders dropped out. I started taking off my belt and peeing right before in an effort to lock it up. Eventually, it came down to me and a bunch of dudes. And then, it happened … I beat the boys. I was the slim hot dog in a giant sausage fest and, I’m tellin ya, it felt so. damn. good. It was a tasty victory sandwich smothered in cash condiments with a sloppy, indulgent side of a semi-slender figure. I’m ashamed to admit how satisfying it really was.

Jumping to extra pounds of the present, this gal needs some fire in her flat tire. It’s time to drop these last l-bs and bring those cobwebbed goal clothes down to be worn in their glory. Remember when I used to do those “What the scale said …” updates (those two times) at the start of the month? Know why I stopped? Because there was no change. It’s depressing! But the pity and I part ways here.

Another piece of my puzzle, I am mildly obsessed with Extreme Weight Loss, and so, naturally, I stalk Chris and Heidi Powell on every social media platform they selfie on. I’ve seen them post these DietBets before, and was always intrigued. This is how it works, to the best of my knowledge:

You sign up with Paypal or a credit card (a $30 buy in). To be accepted into the bet, you must take two photographs: A full body shot and a scale shot, each containing a piece of paper with your secret DietBet word written on it. Once you’re in, you swap sweets for sweat and move around a bunch to try and shed 4% of your body weight. You do that by the time the bet is up and you win your $30 back plus your share of the total pot, which you share with the other victors. Easy, right?

The one I entered is here and is open until August 18, though, the sooner you sign up, the longer you have to lose. It’s worth a shot and kind of exciting. I just really don’t have enough deadlines in my life, so I figured I’d pay for one more. Please, join me, won’t you?

Tune in Today, Wellness

Before and after

June 5, 2015

Tune in today to see if she can … complete Kayla Itsines’ 12-Week Bikini Body Guide

Who isn’t a sucker for a solid before and after shot? When a close friend told me to check out Kayla Itsines Instagram feed and let her know if I wanted to do the Aussie’s 12-week Bikini Body Guide, she must have known I was a complete fool for the side-by-side comparisons. The transformations are messed up they’re so amazing. And now I know why.

The friend who got me on the hook for Kayla, was also the gal who talked me into my first Whole30 and Insanity, both of which were torture at the time and extremely rewarding after. So I had high hopes.

The idea is fairly simple. The guide has you do the assigned Kayla workout 3 days a week, cardio of your choice for 30-40 minutes 2 days a week, stretching 1 day a week and 1 rest day. A Kayla day’s workout consists of 2 circuits, each containing 4 moves with designated repetitions. You set a timer for 7 minutes and do Circuit 1, as many times through as you can. Then, a 2-minute rest. Set the timer for 7 minutes again and do Circuit 2 as many times through as you can. Take a 2-minute rest. Then repeat the process. You complete each circuit twice.

This mama is still packin’ some extra LBs around the midsection and, perhaps because I had an umbilical hernia fixed 6 weeks after having Sloppy Joan, or perhaps because I am a tubby cake-lover, I had absolutely zero core strength. A fact that reached up and slapped me in the cheek as I reluctantly hovered in my first Kayla plank.

But, much like when we did Insanity, this program, over time, ignited a modest evolution in my meager muscles. Take the burpee, for instance. Kayla loves her some burpees. She changes up the form, but they’re there, in almost every workout. They might be first in the circuit, or fourth, but they’re coming for ya. During the first week, I felt like the motion was disjointed and sloppy and kind of pathetic. But by week 12, I could feel my body automatically snapping my limbs in and out like a push-button umbrella. After three kids, I’m thankful for every single small victory.

The pros of this program are many. The workouts only take about 40 minutes and, with a little bit of equipment, can be done at home. (You can certainly use your gym’s equipment and bust it out, too.) It does get a little tricky toward the end when she has you jumping over benches and such, but I just substituted a small child. It’s easy to get creative as long as you have some hand weights, a kettlebell or medicine ball, and some stairs. The movements are super effective and engage several different muscle groups at a time. And because you repeat a lot of the motions throughout the 12 weeks, just with some added difficulty, it’s easy to gauge your progress. I noticed the biggest differences in my core (Is that a muscle sprouting under that stretch mark?!) and upper arms.

I don’t really have any cons related specifically to the program as it was designed, although it is pretty pricey if you buy it from her. The cons in my case were tied to my tattered body’s inability to keep up. I never could do a jack knife; only one end of my body goes up at a time. My push ups are still of the girl variety. And once I passed Week 8, I’m pretty sure I never made it through a circuit more than 1.12 times, but you just keep getting back up, right?

Will you find my before and after in this post? Not likely. But I will throw you a bone with my measurements. Something to keep in mind is that I certainly did not follow the suggested protocol. I completed the guide in 20 weeks rather than 12, with some other classes and jogging peppered throughout.

If you want your Instagram feed flooded with unattainable body selfies, be sure to follow Kayla. It’s fun to browse and kill some time while your Oreos are soaking.

Until next time …

Wellness

Mama said knock you out

May 27, 2015

Tune in today to see if she can … plow through Piloxing.

So, Piloxing® is hard.

While my motions say otherwise, I am learning so much about myself through these classes. Turns out, I like to hit shit. Who knew? Well, I like to swing at the air and pretend that I’m hitting shit. It’s not like a hidden rage thing, it’s more like … OK, so I work an 8-5, I have three children, my husband and I can sing every word of Love is an Open Door, and guys, I like jorts. Not like cutoffs, or those cool, high-waisted Coachella girl ones. I’m talkin’ Bermudas, baby. I love ‘em. I do. So, my point is, when do I get to be a badass?

Piloxing has more punching than it’s butt-kicking cousin, Turbo Kick®, which, as I already covered, makes me a big fan. While it still requires coordination, it doesn’t have the rapid turnover sequences. It has “blocks”. Blocks are my buddy because they give me time to figure out what the frick is going on before we’re on to the next move. And I don’t know if it was the humidity hangover from the afternoon thunderstorm or the feistier-than-appearances-would-suggest instructor, but mama was sweatin’ like Britney without a background track. I could actually feel the beer and s’mores from the past 4 days liquefy and be exorcised from my system.

But for every high there is a low and with Piloxing, it’s the gloves and balance. Before the class started (Why do I always have to be so damn prompt? Why can’t I just straggle in during warmup like all the cool gym girls?), the instructor gave me a quick overview and offered a flash of her colorful gloves. This handwear, she explained, offers a light, added weight to optimize your upper body efforts and increase results. And, oh, they sell them. Of course they do. Gosh dang it. Just like the girl with the rowing shoes … or the people with the special clip-in spinning shoes … or yoga mats with built-in cooling pockets (made it up) … there’s always something, isn’t there? But as I hooked and jabbed and punched, I realized my jort-free badass self wanted the stinkin’ gloves.

The “pil” part of the class is a healthy dose of pilates core work, presented on this night in a block of balancing moves. So, the funniest thing happened. It turns out somewhere between my first pregnancy and a 6 year old coming in to go potty while I’m trying to take a hot bath, I lost the ability to stand on one foot. Truth be told, it didn’t come as a shock. I’ve been the girl whose tree pose appears to be wavering in a blustery breeze for months now. The other gals had it and I was the flailing distraction in the corner of their eyes. Sorry about that, ladies.

Definitely hitting this one up again (pun intended). The only sign I needed was when Still Not a Player by Big Pun came on as I turned onto my suburban street. And hell yes I turned that shit up!

Until next time …

Wellness

Putting on my training heels

April 7, 2015

Tune in today to see if she can … hatch a half marathon training plan.

There is something so romantic about being a runner. Rising with the sun. Worn sneakers with soles that trap and hold stories of triumph and trial. Lean arms that swing and pump and plead for one more mile. The pain. The glory. The reward of making it farther than ever before. It’s the most awe-inspiring example of the power of will. Of course I’ve never experienced these things personally (I know, I really sold it in those first few sentences), but when I watch people pounding the pavement on my drive in to work, I momentarily crush on their endurance. The fact that they’re out there. That they are runners. And then I think, damn it, I want to be a runner.The natural retort here would be, “Then go run, fool!” but the truth is, it isn’t that easy. To put it nicely, I am stride challenged. I have all the ambition, but none of the athleticism. I learned several years ago that I am great at moving up and down, and terrible at moving forward; a problem, some would say, when it comes to covering distance.

In high school, we had something called Summer Gym. The program was a requirement for athletes and basically a form of torture for hormonal adolescents in which we were turned out in 98-degree conditions and told to run, dash through tires and look disgusting in front of every boy we ever liked. The climax of Summer Gym was the infamous run to Lion’s Park. Let’s call it 3 miles round trip. My girlfriends pulled the period card and bailed, leaving me and my yet-to-be-diagnosed stationary stride. About 1 mile in, it became clear my only hope was a stamp transfer. Please, god of teenagers, let me get a stamp transfer. When a runner reached the park, they received a Sharpie stamp on the back of their hand before looping back to finish the course at the school. Runner after runner came back at me, Sharpie mark flashing, until I finally spotted a cheerleader comrade. We locked eyes, desperation in mine, pity in hers. She pressed her Sharpie against the back of my sweaty hand. We held them there for maybe a full minute. Nothing. There was no hope now. I was going to have to run the rest of the route. Worse yet, the group couldn’t stretch and leave for the day until every single runner returned. I finished dead last. They sent a football player to get me. I believe his words of encouragement were, “Move your ass!” if memory serves.

Since that fateful day, I have been chasing down redemption. I want to run a half marathon more than anything. I’ve walked it three times, with a little jogging peppered in. But this is the year. I have developed a very detailed 5-part action plan for how I am going to come at it.

1. Pick a race and sign up.
Done. It’s at the end of September in my hometown.

2. Get some new kicks.
I always end up with Brooks Adrenalines, but I’ll still go to our local running
store for my biannual analysis because I like watching my feet on camera and imposing my self-deprecating commentary on the sales guy.

3. Train to train.
There is this wonderful gal at work who runs the real deal races. She has helped several other people come up with a kickass training program, so I picked one I liked and sent it to her. She asked how far, frequently and fast I am currently running. I sent my stats. Her response was sweet and thoughtful and she (summarized) basically suggested I use the program I had found to get me ready to start a real training program in July. So, I need to train to train. I get it. That’s where I’m at. Truth is a liquor best served straight up. So, I’m starting my pretraining training program today.

4. Train.

In July, I will begin one of Hal Higdon’s Half Marathon Novice training programs. I’ll have to give this more thought when I get there.

5. Find some sucker

I have solicited a few friends to join me, with some interest returned. I had a great walking partner, who very politely passed on trying to run the thing. I worry about someone with a quick or long stride because, as we’ve established, this is not my jam. I need someone who is determined to finish, but not super speedy.

So, here we go … 26 weeks and counting!

Wellness

It’s Turbo time

April 3, 2015

Tune in today to see if she can … tackle a Turbo Kick class.

When I was in high school, my parents had this dog, Faith. Faith started out as my brother’s dog, but a pattern of puppy passing was beginning and she eventually went to my folks. She was a weird blend of breeds and we often referred to her as Santa’s Little Helper (you know, from the Simpson’s). I am a big believer that people get one, maybe two, great four-legged companions in life, and the rest tend to be just … well, dogs. Faith was a dog. She was nervous and jittery and her hair fell out in clumps. But saddest of all, in her golden years, Faith started having the wackiest seizures. Honest to Henry, I once saw her come up onto her two back legs and hop across the kitchen, twitching like a kangaroo covered in fire ants. It was awful and, admittedly a little funny now, but I bring it up here for a very good reason. Tonight, I was Santa’s Little Helper.

At my best friend’s urging, I decided to try Turbo Kick. She, conveniently, was away for my debut and unable to witness the chaos that was my attempt at the routine or, better phrased, the complete collapse in communication between my brain and my extremities.

So many of my basic neurological functions failed me. The jabs … the uppercuts … the roundhouses … it was a system overload no one could have seen coming. I felt like the drunk girl at a dry reception. It’s not the single action so much as the combinations; combinations that repeated but never formed a logical sequence in my brain. And people were hooting. No judgement. Whatever gets ya juiced up. But it did make the tone a little like exercising in the rain forest exhibit at the zoo.

Just when a faint whisper of confidence, in the form of a knee-up-crossbody-jab series, crept closer, the instructor threw out a “jack with air”. I froze … an ironic choice of words considering I was sweating like Martha Stewart at a tax audit. It was intimidating in its simplicity. A jumping jack where the exerciser is expected to come a handful of inches up off the ground. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was my temporary coordination drought. Maybe I just failed at rule no. 76, to play like a champion. But I could not do it. Every time she came to “jack air” I faltered. Until finally …

I went for it. I anticipated it was coming and I used the last of the gas in my tubby-girl tank and leaped. Only, it didn’t look like everyone else’s. It was special. It was more spasm than sporty. It was a dolphin changing its mind mid-trick. It was so Santa’s Little Helper! It’s now my Everest.

After the class, the regulars were so sweet. Three of them actually came up and told a few of us we, “Did great for our first time.” Imagine that … strangers talking to strangers. What a concept. I think I’ll go back just for the stellar social scene.

Until next time …

Wellness

What the scale said in March

April 1, 2015

This is a depressing update because the scale said I was still overweight, basically. It did. not. move. For a whole month. One of our longest months at that. It wasn’t like it was February, which is so short no one can, realistically, get anything done.

The scale says:

Down – 28.4

To Go – 18.6

The humiliation is good, guys, really … it’s good. I mean, I need a tablespoon or twenty of humility. (See how I equate everything to food?) A week goes by and you eat a tub of Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins and a few Apple Fritters, and you think, Monday is the day. The day I search Amazon for more Trader Joe’s chocolate. I blame the Mayans and Aztecs, actually.

But, April – sweet, spring-has-sprung April – that’s where it’s at. “A” is for “April” and “A game”.

The plan. The progress.*

Whole30
– Completed February 5 (100%). Considering another round (post-Easter, of
course). Any takers?

Kayla Itsines 12-week Bikini
Body – On Week 9 (75%). This guide is badass. More to come.

Join a Gym – Officially members and regularly attending Spinning
and attempting TurboKick tomorrow. Aw, snap Billy Blanks, what! (80%)

Clean Eating – Why do I even keep this on the list? Note to self: Meal prep is magical. Get back to what works. (-2.1%)

Half Marathon – I am registered. I have also selected a training program to get me to a place where I can do my real training program come July.
This was a realization best served by someone else. In my case, a coworker who moonlights as a marathoner, but more to come on that later. (1%)

Calorie Tracking – It sucks. Keeping a food journal is like the ultimate sensory cock block. The smells aren’t as sweet. The bites aren’t as beautiful. It’s all one big finger in your face, disgracing your dairy and desserts. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t work. (Unless you’re Whole30-ing.)

Hiking – Got my boots and JoJo chose a hiking trip to mark her 6th
birthday in May. We’re going places. (3%)

Yoga – Every Sunday (10%)

Slim & Sassy essential oil – I sip on this stuff at least twice a week. I don’t
know how I’ll know when I know it’s doing something. (5%)

*These percentages are based on complete bullshit because I don’t know
how to do math or quantify something like “Clean Eating”.

Wellness

Spinning my wheels

March 14, 2015

Tune in today to see if she can … survive a spin class.

As a new gym goer, I am quietly, privately geeking out about all the classes. I love trying new things as it is, but a paid membership and knowledgeable instructor are even greater incentive to jump into a room full of strangers and sweat profusely. But I tend to obsess a bit and get anxious about finding the lay of the land.I really wanted to try a spin class. Because I have no experience and have not, for that matter, had a bike between my legs once in the past two years, I knew I was going to need reinforcements. I lined up both a coworker and my brother to meet me. Why is it so much easier to do new things when someone you know is there? What is that about? Anyway, it doesn’t matter now because both backed out by the end of the work day and I was thinking I would just go row. And then I thought, “You chicken shit. They aren’t going to help you pedal. Be bold and go in the direction of your dreams already!” Not that spinning is my dream, being skinnier and badass is, but I’m getting side tracked …So, I went. Right away people were moving bikes around and panic set in. In these situations, I tend to smile an obnoxiously large, twitchy smile and scan the room for the nicest face. I locked eyes with an older gentleman.“So, I have no clue what to do. Do I just grab any bike?”

“This is like my third class. But I think you want one of the red ones with the RPM reader,” he said.

Oh man … here we go … I don’t know what an RPM reader is and I have no clue how to move this bike. Newness makes me itchy.The instructor helped me adjust my seat height, handlebars and whatever the word is for how far forward your seat sits … fore-something (not skin or play). And then I clicked my toes into the little cages and it was time to start spinning. About 3 (yes, just 3) minutes in I was feeling good, and then she announced it was time to “come out of the saddle” and jog. Now, dear friends, first of all, I used to ride horses and that strip of pleather is not a saddle. No sir. It was at this point I realized two things: 1) I hadn’t been in my target heart rate zone in 18 months, and 2) this was going to kick my ass.

Thoughts that ran through my mind during CycleFit:

Are there special shoes for this, too? What a conspiracy.

There is no way she turned her dial to the right.

I need to stand up, I need to stand up, I need to stand up.

Is the bike moving? Oh my gosh, if this thing tips I am canceling my membership, effective immediately.

I have to sit down, I have to sit down, I have to sit down

If she says, “Here comes the hill,” one more time …

Is that sweat or is my crotch crying?

Can a person’s ass just break in two, right down the middle? I think it’s
happening.

In the end, I survived. And I will go back for sure … after my undercarriage heals, of course.

Wellness

Oil thrill

March 13, 2015

Tune in today to see if she can … clear the air and create a healthy, happy utopia using essential oils

I’m a sucker for a good holistic sales pitch. I just am. I think we give too many antibiotics and use too much antibacterial fluid. Things like “superbugs” keep me up at night and I don’t understand the flu shot. Having said all this, our winter was brutal. We had:

3 strepped throats

2 rounds of the flu (the last time all 5 of us were invited to the party)

3 sinus infections

1 terrifying case of RSV

And just a general hacky cough and sniffles for going on 5 months

I fear there is an evil living somewhere in our home and until we can open some windows and release its devilish hold on our immune systems, we are held hostage to its reign. So when a dear friend emailed about her essential oils party, I didn’t need much convincing. I was at a point where I was willing to try anything.

I believe this is the part where, in an effort to maintain some of your respect, I whole-heartedly admit that I have fallen down the rabbit hole. Way down. The smells, and the blends and the promises of lifted spirits and calm, sleepy children. It’s just too much. It’s also extremely overwhelming (and expensive).

I like to dabble, so I went with the DoTerra Family Physician’s Kit to start, which includes: Lavender, Lemon, Peppermint, Melaleuca, Oregano, Frankincense, Deep Blue®, Breathe, DigestZen®, On Guard® and Slim & Sassy.

Here is an honest report of what I’ve tried to this point and some early feedback.

Diffusing – I have put Wild Orange, Lemon, On Guard and Lavender into our atmosphere. They all smell amazing, but I think the trick here is going to be finding the right diffuser-space combination. I ordered a cute one and quickly realized it was more for a whisper next to my bedside than taking down flupocalypse ’15 in my open kitchen area. This is another facet of the hobby that can get pretty pricey; diffusers. I don’t need it to change colors or look like a tulip. I need it to be quiet and push that goodness into as much air as possible.

Tootsies – I have been rubbing Lavender on the older girls’ feet before bed. JoJo loves it and has said, at least once, it helped her sleep better. And she did stay in bed, which is a huge victory. The verdict is still out with Spikey.

Cheers – I’ve been putting a few drops of Lemon or Slim & Sassy in my water. The Lemon is supposed to help with stress and immunity, and the Slim & Sassy … I’m not really sure, but the name implies good things. They taste wonderful (it only takes a few drops) and it makes me drink more water (a Superwoman goal for sure). Also, when the flu bug set up shop in our cramping stomachs, I, who volunteered as oil tribute, seemed to have it the shortest amount of time.

Face – Just last night I put a few drops of Frankincense around my eyes before applying my moisturizer. My consultant does it and her skin glows like a lily on a dewy spring morning. I’m buyin what she’s sellin. I do think you need to dilute it in some lotion or oil though. It’s intense.I hear myself becoming that girl. While still a bit of a skeptic, I suggested peppermint oil for a coworker suffering from vertigo and I was wishing for a Happy Blend at a particularly low point in the day.

Here are a few things I want to try next:

Back Pain – Hank has a terrible back. The dude is crooked, no joke. So, when he stops thinking I’m crazy, I want to try Deep Blue to see if it offers any relief. Then I’m going to make him return the favor (wink, wink).

Cold Combatting – I picked up some Eucalyptus to try, and I also have the Breathe Blend, for the next time a sinus infection comes calling. I’m so eager to see if it works, I keep touching handles in public spaces but so far, nothing’s got me.

Flu Bomb or Bombs of any kind – I am all about this right here. Adults can take it like a shot, and kids can have it cut with oil and rubbed on their feet. Would have really loved this like 10 days ago, but all eyes forward.

Sleepy time – I ordered Vetiver for my nightstand diffuser and I think my dreams are going to be of me and Cheryl Strayed chatting as we stroll the PCT.

Follow my That’s the Rub board on Pinterest to see what you can mix up.

(Disclaimer: I’ve been learning about oils for like a week now, and my friend, Nurse Jackie, insists that there is much to educate yourself about here. So play with caution.)

Wellness

Confessions of a new gym goer

March 5, 2015

My stream of thought from entering the workout area to depositing my “soiled towel” on the way out.

7:25 pm

OK … do I want to run? No, definitely not next to Usain Bolt over there. Elliptical? Ahhhhh … That girl’s rowing and she has a killer body. I’ll row. Yes, rowing sounds good. They always do it on The Biggest Loser.

Where are the towels? Last time the towels were over here and now there aren’t any towels!

“Excuse me, where are the towels?”
“That big stack on the other side of the desk, ma’am.”
“Oh, duh. Thanks.”

OK, no one else saw you ask, or say, ‘duh’. It’s cool, just grab one and put out the vibe that you planned on coming in and killing a sweet rowing sesh.

Feet in, adjust straps. Um, where do I put my phone so I have some jams? There is seriously no logical place on this damn machine to set my phone and not have it go flying when I pull back. I’m blowing my cover, looking super amateur. Don’t panic, woman! Think, think … sports bra, boom! Just tuck this in there, put my headphones in like so and start rowing this mug like a boss. Is she wearing special shoes? Are there special rowing shoes?

7:36 pm

Can she hear that I’m listening to Miley Cyrus? This is like the only Miley song I like, and I don’t even know why. It doesn’t speak to my character. She is absolutely tearin’ it up. Are we rowing at the same pace? Is she racing me? Should I be racing her? No, just row casually so she doesn’t think you’re cocky. Her outfit is legit. That guy on the fancy high-stepping elliptical is Sir Sweats-a-Lot. Sheesh!

7:42 pm

OK, I am Sir Sweats-a-Lot. Like a sick, makeup-dripping hoss. I have to stop rowing to get the towel. Ew, I set the towel on the floor. I think that might be really gross. Why do headphones not stay in my ears? Maybe I have a weird ear shape. How long is this girl going to row?

7:45 pm

15 more minutes till Child Care closes … dang. I’ll have to stop my workout. Oh, who am I kidding? My hammies are crampin and my toes are numb. I wonder if this chick has kids? Probably, and she has the best arms. She has yoga arms. Damn her and her defined yoga arms. I want to be her friend so we can talk about how she got her yoga arms and joined the secret society of moms who wear rowing shoes.

7:50 pm

Quit now or go 5 more minutes? She quit, so you could quit. But she was already on when you got here. Don’t quit … go 5 more minutes. You’re already so sweaty the handle is like a fish fresh out of the pond in your hands. What if it just goes flying out of my grip? Who is watching?

7:55 pm

Power down, sister. Nice work. I burned … 390 calories?! What? That’s only like 2 chocolate chip cookies. Whoa … remember to disinfect your cell phone. Sick. Maybe the sports bra wasn’t the classiest, or most sanitary, choice. Be slow to stand up.

Why is that dude just sitting on that weight machine watching everyone? Move, son!

My water gulp is so loud. Am I putting my sweatshirt back on? I’m so hot. When did it stop being cool to wear sweatshirts to the gym anyway? Are those pants or tights she’s wearing? Where is her underwear line?

OK, run to get the girls.

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