1,2,3 and blog

I have worked out several times since the first day. I have a different trainer who is MAYBE a little TOO easy on me. But he is really into it so I may stick with him for two days a week and find a different person for Sundays.

Anyhoo, here's the story about almost passing out. Twice.

I didn't bring a lock so I couldn't lock my stuff up in a locker. I gave my bag to the trainer guy and he put it behind the counter in some secret place. I forgot to get my water bottle out so as we were working out I didn't drink any water. BAD IDEA. Water is the oil to your body's engine. Oil is NOT the oil to your body's engine. Funny how that works.

We/I started with leg presses. Three sets of 20 and between each set, 15 jumping jacks. I didn't think that would be a big deal because I have pretty strong legs. I could do it, but I was shaky by the end of the third set. I look up at the clock thinking, "How long did that take? Are we done?" Get this: I had just STARTED! I wasn't done. It was a pretty rude awakening. I had to get all zen and meditate-y to get through the next 20 freakin' minutes, let me tell you.

Then I had to do this thing where you step up on a high step while holding onto a handle attached to weights. You do 10 on each leg, meaning you step with your right, then down and then with your left and down. You catch my drift? This works your gluts, apparently. I don't really know from working gluts because I mostly sit on those. Between each set, jumping jacks again. So now I'm really wiped out. I can't really look my trainer in the face for fear that he will either see pleading and self pity or searing and deadly hatred. I don't want that. He's just trying to help. I don't want his pity either. He looks like Gary Sinise and I can't decide if that's a good thing or an intimidating thing.

Lastly I do these pull down things. You know what I'm talking about, right? Sit facing the machine and pull down the bar to your chest. Three sets of 20 with the ever present jumping jacks separating the sets. This is the thing that crippled my left arm for a full 24 hours starting at 5 am when I awoke from so much pain I could no longer lay in my own, comfy bed. I know I'm not making this sound appealing, but I must say I feel so freakin' great when it's all done.

Now ... here's the thing to remember. This guy was/is really into talking to me and telling me which muscles were being worked and how that is gonna benefit me, etc. So while he would teach me he would often lose count. So very often, instead of 20 I would do 27 or 28 reps. I didn't complain because all I could do was focus to get through it.

When we were done we went to the counter and he told me I should now do 30 minutes of treadmilling. I looked at him like he was a frightening and unbeatable foe from hell and WITHOUT BURSTING INTO TEARS said, "I have a treadmill at home and ... I need to go home." We were trying to schedule another time to work out and I started to feel dizzy. I told him that and I squatted down and put my head between my knees. I stood up and talked to him for about a minute and he looked at me and said, "Come over here and lay down." I can only assume I got a very far away look on my face and may have turned even more white than I usually am. He put a mat down for me and lifted my legs and stretched me out. He told me to lay there about 2 - 3 minutes. I did. Then I got up and went back to the counter.

We continued to scour our prospective schedules and find a time we could meet. I then looked at him and said, "I have to lay back down." He walked over to the mat with me and said, "I see this a lot. Don't worry. It's common. You worked out hard today and your blood is rushing to those muscles. Lay here as long as you need to." I did. Dont' know how long it was, but it was longer than 2 minutes. There was a time in my life I would have been too embarrassed to do that but I gotta tell ya, I didn't give two shits who saw me or who made fun of me. They were gonna make much WORSE fun of me if I passed out. Plus, this gym ... I don't feel judged like I did 15 years ago when I belonged to a gym. If you think about it, I'm sure it was my imagination then. Whatever the case, it feels better now.

So I finally got up and said, "I will have to call later and schedule the next work out. Is there a water fountain?" I went and drank a bunch of water and felt better in about 20 seconds. Seriously.

If you're gonna do this, don't let yourself get dehydrated. Your trainer SHOULD be reminding you to drink. And listen, I ALMOST passed out. I didn't ever ACTUALLY pass out. And I'm not as sore now as I was so it's not to be feared. In fact, I recommend it although I must say ... I'm only doing it for a month. If I thought I was doing this for longer I might shoot myself in the face.

Sore blog muscles

Can't ... type.

Arms ... in too much ... pain from ... workout.

Woke up at 5 am in so much pain that I thought I MUST have pulled a muscle or something. Plus the muscle that is hurting isn't even a muscle I was SUPPOSED to have worked out. But clearly it got worked out even though I wasn't targeting it. I am thankful it's in my left arm so I can use my right arm today ... in my life for eating and bathing and such because the left arm is immobile. No. Really. And I'm working out again today. Oh yes. I am.

I have to keep this short for the purposes of pain, but Monday I will tell you the story of almost passing out. Twice. (that guy kicked my BUTT)

Blog signing

The good news is that I'm up early and I'm going to sign some paperwork to hire private trainer for a month just like I didn't promise I was gonna do. The bad news is that I don't really have time to blog because getting up early still doesn't allow time for blogging to my heart's content.

But I'm doin' the thing. Wish me luck!

When I say I am busy I'm not sure what people picture in their mind's eye. They maybe picture me running around doing errands and making calls on my cel phone and proudly marking things off a long "to do" list and such all fresh faced and big sunglassed up zipping around in the loving California sun. No? No. When I say I am busy ... I mean I'm the sort of busy where A) you get up at 8 am and go to bed at 2 am and sometimes don't have time to shower so you are a little crusty with the matted hair of fitful sleep and yesterday's mascara, B) what you do throughout the day requires your mind be engaged every moment so you can't wander off in your brain to a quiet place and allow distraction or daydreams about laughter on the beach and frosty margaritas and flowy skirts and flirty cabana boys, C) after enough days of this your brain takes a vacation and no longer cares to support the involuntary functions of your body like ... speaking and ... breathing and ... blinking and ... crying.

There is the issue of ... it's all good stuff. There isn't anything on my calendar I want to lose. It's all auditions and rehearsals and agency work and class and shows I want to attend and dinners and parties and cool things. It's all stuff that makes me feel fulfilled and complete and excited. But it's also stuff that really requires my brain and sometimes my heart and that can become exhausting.

What's the first thing to go when I'm exhausted you ask? The work-em-outs. When was the last time I worked out you ask? Can't remember. Are you eating well? Stop asking questions. It's making my brain hurt.

So, as always, I am choosing not to punish myself and instead to try a new tack. I'm CONSIDERING ... and I'm not dedicated to it yet ... but I'm considering a trainer for a month. I have friends who belong to these things called ... gymnasiums. I MIGHT be able to talk a friend into doing the work out with me (Mimi). I'm not sure. But I'm considering it. I have a show on May 5 at which there will be many people whom I will want to impress. I want smaller arms by then. It's not a lofty goal nor is it a huge and unachievable one. So I'm looking into it. I PROMISE NOTHING! Cuz I've made promises before that the universe was able to screw me out of. Sorry to rat on you, Universe, but it's true. So no promises. I've learned that lesson.

I'll keep you posted.

Sleepy Bloggy

Monday is a NEW DAY!!

I'm starting back with the blog in full force on Monday. And by full force I mean as often as I can but at LEAST a few days a week.

It's been a slow and difficult adjustment because I'm a super late night prowler. I love it when it's dark and quiet in the city. I'm determined to find a way to do both things; to stay up late and feel like Omega Man and to get up early and blog and work out before I go to the day gig. I'm really looking for a plan on that. Cuz ... the other day my brain had a serious disconnect from my mouth. I was trying to read something off a computer screen to someone on the other end of the phone and ... it din't go so well. Lack of sleep is fascinating.

So I think I have worked it out. We'll see. But no matter what, I'll be here on Monday. DANG IT!!

Blogicane

I am sorry kids, but you might not hear from me for a few days.

I started a new day gig and I am adjusting to a different schedule. I still have time to log on and check stuff on my computer, but in terms of writing and sharing with you I am pressed for time. Sorry. Sue me.

I WILL MISS YOU! And I will be back as soon as I can make the adjustment and not be all groggy and sleepy in the mornings. Or sloggy. Or greepy.

Whatev.

I'll be back. I'm not gonna abandon you. I'm not a jaggov.

Everlasting Blog

My treadmill - T, as I like to call it - is the most beautiful treadmill in the whole wide world. My heart leaps when I see it or even when I speak of it. Ours is an enduring and possibly everlasting love. We fit together so perfectly. We have vowed to be good to one another. T will be there for me whenever I need it and I will make sure the gears get greased ... (if you know what I mean, nudge, nudge) Together we are going to make each other's lives better.

T did the sweetest thing yesterday. The guys came and set it up and it ... worked immediately. There was nothing fancy I needed to do. There were no complicated instructions. I pressed the ON button and set the speed and T just ... worked. No pressure was placed for me to hop on. No mocking about how I hadn't worked out in two weeks. No demands of attention. T was just there and waiting with loving, accepting, embracing readiness.

Now that T and I are back together the sun is shining and the rain has been replaced by green grass and blue skies; the air smells better; everything tastes better and I can hear birds chirping even while I'm in the shower; there will soon be an end to world hunger and poverty and peace in the middle east and a cure for all types of cancer. I'm never gonna neglect T again. I'm never gonna take T for granted. I'm gonna ask T to marry me. T will be my second.

This is what magic feels like people. You should try it.