Jenny and I ran a few laps tonight. I definitely ran 2 laps, and either I ran a third one, or almost a third one, I'm not sure because I think I blacked out for a little while or maybe I blocked out the experience because I was traumatized. Either way, I know it happened because the girls told me so.
Jenny and I were separated for a bit because she went to get water and she started running when we got back on the track but I wasn't ready. So she ran and I walked and when I was ready, I ran. We are getting better. Jenny said we need to run slowly. My boobs move a lot when I run. And yes, I have an exercise bra, but it does not matter. Running with these boobs is not comfy and can do some serious damage to all involved. I can imagine myself ending up with black & blue eyes like those little piglets on Angry Birds after one of those savage birds knocks a board down on them.
So when I run with Jenny, I feel like I am in a slow motion running scene of a new chick flick. All we need to do is throw our hair over our shoulders and it would be perfect.
Except... we are the FatGirls, there is no camera crew, neither of us has showered in at least 10 hours, we are both nearly out of our minds with exhaustion, Jenny very nearly threw up a pork chop just recently and I almost just had diarrhea from drinking too much water too quickly. I'm not kidding. Jenny had porkchops for dinner and it was gurgling around in her guts, trying to make itself a home.
Well, it's hard to start nesting when two legs are beating away at the outside of your house, isn't it? So Jenny said the porkchop decided to move out. But she made him stay. And as for me, I felt gurgling in the opposite direction. What in the name of all that is holy goes on in people's bodies when they are trying to get healthy? I don't barf very often so I guess it has to go somewhere.
One of us is over there trying to swallow vomit and the other one is trying to clench her intestines to make them stop spasming. You just hop on a Spinner and pedal your a$$ off while your intestines are spasming. And try not to clench your a$$, but definitely hold in your abs. Got it straight? Don't forget to pedal. And don't look to your left because the Vomit Girl might make you laugh and then you are done for. Meanwhile, the Spin instructions are to pedal and hover. Hover, like a UFO. Oh, there will be flying objects here tonight, ladies & gentlemen... I pedaled what I could but between overheating, not sweating and spasming intestines, that was it. I went out for a little brain break....
My knuckles were white from gripping the handlebars (is that what you call them?) after awhile. I just wanted to lay down over top of them and have a bit of a rest. What is wrong with my body? If I was sitting home on the couch, none of this would be happening, but take me out in public, and I cannot trust the body I grew up in. It's like it turns on me."Take me out in public, eh? I'll show you!" I'm sure that is what my body would say if it was a separate entity from my mind. But then again, I am an Oppositional Defiant, confrontational sort, so it is no surprise that this happens.
Holly always has good music when we Spin. It's fun, and fast and keeps us going. On some days we might be witness to Eminem lying to Rihanna, on others we might be heading down the highway to the Love Shack with the B52s, Michael Jackson sometimes thrills us, and tonight we went back to the 80s with Survivor's 'Eye of the Tiger', except we did a little twist with ours like we always do, "Risin' up straight to the throat from our guts, that's the story, just these girls and the barf we will hide! ... Feel like I'm gonna die here!"
Back to the 80s is an actual production Jenny, Brent and I are working on this semester. Come see it at Keyano Theatre during the first week of June :D It's gonna be good times!
I'm gonna show you what is usually going on in my head, swirling in and around the music. Now there are days when I watch this video just for the heck of it... old times, you know. And I teach drama, so being eccentric is expected.... "TWELVE!!!"
It was nice to hear the 80s music tonight, because I grew up in the 80s, when Sesame Street was in its prime. Kids hung out and watched ole Oscar, Big Bird, Bert & Ernie. Those were The Days. The LadyBug Picnic was my favourite song and I really wanted to go on that picnic.
But the song that starts with the whispered "TWELVE!" and then the random drawn images of the pinball machine that seemed, in its day, to be so colorful and modern... something seems just a little bit weird with this song. If you listen, numbers are thrown in their randomly in addition to the 1...12. "Seven!" "Nine" "Eleven!" Maybe they like prime numbers or something. Or maybe not. I don't really know what prime numbers are, I just thought it would be cool to say.
So when I'm off into space, it's a good chance I'm playing that Pinball (aka SPinball) machine, and just maybe that SPinball machine is at The LadyBug picnic, too. If you attend Spin, think of "TWELVE!!!" next time you are at Spin. I hope it gives you a giggle. Pack a bag, go on the acid trip. You're safe - Holly will bring you back!
That was a long a$$ explanation of what is going on in my head when I am trying to think during pedaling. I am also thinking of this: I wish I was sweaty. I don't sweat. You might be thinking "Oh, that's nice." But no, it isn't nice. It gets hot when your internal temperature goes up but your body doesn't produce moisture. That isn't a good combination. This causes fatalities! And while I am sure (or at least, hoping) that this will not happen to me, I would like to know for sure. So when I am givin'er on the bike, and I am hot but not sweating, this becomes an issue. And then I get dizzy.
Now, I take a lot of meds for migraines, and this is non-neogotiable. And one of the side-effects is this very non-sweat thing. So, do I take a wet facecloth and throw it over the back of my neck? I already have a waterbottle and try to cool down with that. I'll throw ice down my pants, I don't even care. I don't think that will help, but if that's what needs to be done, so be it. Throw in the ice. And why doesn't MacIsland have more fans? People are working out - shouldn't they stock up on the fan business? Seriously, blow air around, people!
On Sunday, Jenny and I went swimming. It was early. I didn't want to get out of bed. As I said, I was struggling last week and still am this week with just being human, so going to workouts is rough. If it was just me, I would probably quit. I love going, and I'm seeing results, but I'm just contrary. I think it's the weather. I want the spring to be here, I want winter to be gone, and I'm fed up living in the frozen north. I feel like I live in the upper part of the fridge. It could be worse - Japan has shown us that. I understand that. I know.
When I go outside, and see all the ice and snow, my heart sinks. I really have been patient, but I am done now. Done. I hope Winter takes a flying leap off a cliff. I wouldn't care if I ever saw snow again. And I mean it. I don't like snow, I wouldn't miss snow, I wouldn't give a sh!t if it all took off for Antarctica with the penguins forever. See ya! Bon voyage!
I hate it. I mean it. If snow was my husband, not only would I divorce him, I would hire someone to melt him. Is that bad to say? I don't care. Melt, you bugger! And not only melt, but evaporate. Well, I would check with some scientist guy about the environmental issues associated with that, but otherwise, I would go ahead.
Anyway, *shakes head in frustration*, we went swimming on Sunday. Jenny forgot to wake up early because of the clock springing ahead business, so we got there a bit late. She told me to count the number of laps I swam, but I forgot to do this. I swim two laps of front crawl, then two of the freedomboard, and swam again anad again, blah blah blah, and before the end of the hour, a random old guy who had come swimming stops me and gives me some tips to improve my swimming.
I noticed two things.
(1). He had no top teeth.
Unless I just missed seeing them.
(2). Random strangers are now stopping me to tell me I need to improve.
Something I read recently that might amuse you is a section in the book Sh*t My Dad Says, On Getting Rescued by a Lifeguard at the Beach...
"What were you doing that far out? You can't swim... Son, you're a good athlete, but I've seen what you call swimming. It looks like a slow kid on his knees trying to smash ants." (Justin Halpern)
So maybe I look like I, too, am trying to smash ants. Underwater. *Sigh*.
Ok, first, I didn't mind the guy telling me this. I know he was trying to help. And really, I have made improvements, and I know I am doing the breathing business wrong - well, not wrong because I am breathing, it's just weird. That's what he was trying to show me how to improve.
Second, I think this guy has been swimming probably since humans evolved over the beginning of time.
He told me that he swims with his mouth half underwater and that I should just do the same because I would get used to it.
I would 'get used to it'.
I thought, "Alright nutbar, I don't have gills. Maybe you kept yours during the First Evolution but these days, we young'uns aren't born with the old gills anymore." But I didn't say that aloud. What I said was,
"I think I'll drown like that."
He replied, "No, you won't." The look of disbelief must have transferred from me to him because he showed me. Not kidding. He swam, like a shark. I would have laughed but I was a little bit in awe and a little bit 'afeard' and I say 'afeard' because 'afraid' doesn't seem to do the time justice - I need to go old school afraid.
"Now you try," he said, "Don't be afraid... of the water." I'm sure it wasn't said with that kind of pause but with my imagination, that is what it sounded like.
I swam a few feet and struggled to breathe half underwater. He watched, and got out of the pool by this time. It was like starting all over again.
He told me to keep going. Then he left. He was a nice guy. He made me so angry at myself, though.
This was about the time that I got so frustrated with myself that I growled underwater. And that made me laugh. It's weird, I can growl and laugh underwater, and that doesn't make me drown. But try to swim, oh no, first thing - drown.
So I tried again. Got a few feet, started doing the same old thing, corrected myself and swallowed a big gulp, and I do mean A Big Gulp, of pool water which made me retch, and then I was practically standing straight up in the water with anger, and then I did the Diva Stomp.
Oh, yes I did. Underwater.
Then realized what I did. I don't do the Diva Stomp very often... I certainly don't do it on purpose. I really do get overcome and then the foot comes up, and so it goes. Well, the only reason I noticed I did it was because there was no follow through - there was no 'stomp'.... it was more like a Diva Swoosh.
Totally unsatisfying. But it put me in my place, too. No stomping underwater. No matter how angry I get at myself, I can't stomp in the pool. It is now my mission to get to the bottom of the pool because I am definitely stomping down there. I'm writing my name down there and stomping all around it.
Anyway, I know what my swimming problem is: when I go to breathe, I lift my head out of the water to the front and then turn to the right to breathe. I do the same when I turn to the left to breathe. You are only supposed to turn to the side.
The reason I do this is because there is always water on the side when I go to breathe, either in the form of the actual pool itself or a wave that I, myself, am making. Yeah, duh. So when I go to take in air, I instead get water. It doesn't matter how fast I swim - I have tried this - I make a wave from my arm. According to the Sunday dude, I am supposed to only let my mouth go halfway out of the water.
WHAT?!? So mouth halfway out to breathe and then I make a wave. I will swim 5 feet and then I will be floating because I will pass out from lack of oxygen. Somebody better get to me quick or they will catch me floating for eternity.
I am not afraid of the water. I even mistakenly went underwater and tried to breathe because I got mixed up on Sunday... well, my body just stopped and swallowed the water. Done. Head came up, lungful of air. Gross. Pool water in the guts. But, better than pool water in the lungs.
I'll figure it out. Meanwhile, it's a good thing I'm not getting paid to do this.
"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." (Albert Einstein)
I had Einstein hair on Sunday. My hair is so finely wisped that it will not stay in the bathing cap (apparently, I am from the 50s because I am the only one who calls it that)... sorry, the 'swim cap'... so I had to fill my hair full of hairspray and make it all messy and dirty. By the time I put on my hat, I looked like a cross between Einstein and Jack Nicholson's 1990s look.
Before we left Try Club tonight, Penny came over for a chat with us. She told us that she is training for the Ironman in Texas in May (YEAH, PENNY!!!!!!) and she said that seeing new people like us are an inspiration to her. How nice is that? It's funny because we see it the same way - we see fit, healthy people as the inspiration to get in shape because they lead better, healthier lives.
I can't wait to write in the blog that we are cheering for you while you are there. Is that TriAthletes do - cheer? Whatever - we'll do it anyway. Whatever it is, we'll do it!
This showed up on my friend's facebook status today and I think it is so powerful that it can't be just a fleeting message. We often take for granted that our lives are the way they are. No one's life is perfect, certainly mine isn't. But I am sure people have it worse than I do, too, so I can remember to relax when I am feeling overwhelmed or underappreciated. There are people in the world who have much less and who are in much worse situations...
...The one you just called fat? ...has been starving themselves and has lost over 30 pounds. The one you just called stupid? ...has a learning disability and studies over 4 hrs a night. The one you just called ugly? ...spends hours putting makeup on hoping people will like her. The one you just tripped? ... is abused enough at home. Everyone has their own battle.