Priscilla-Stairway to Heaven

I woke at 4:45 AM still "Grrr...y" from the previous night.
A little physical exertion was sure to get my anger out. So off to the gym I went. Where I was greeted with 18 spots on a circuit, 2 of those being stairs. It never fails though. No matter where I start out on a circuit, it ALWAYS seems that I come back around to the stairs one time more. Today however instead of swearing like a sailor as I ascended them I said a rosary. Granted it was a little huffy and puffy, but I managed to get through a good bit of it. I don't think God minded the heavy breathing. Who knew 24 flights of stairs would actually bring me some much needed peace of mind.




I guess this must be what Led Zeppelin was singing about.

Priscilla- 25 Things

25 things I have learned since working out.


1. A four point push up is the devil.
2. Green juice starts to taste good after a week.
3. My toes go numb mid way through a workout.
4. I can't keep my legs 6 inches off the ground very well.
5. Hip bones don't reappear after two weeks.
6. Muffin tops don't go away either.
7. There are no cute work out clothes.
8. Doing side squats up stairs looks retarded.
9. Medicine balls are still around.
10. I have forgotten how to jump rope.
11. That "plank" move should be deemed criminal.
12. Rick is not Satan.
13. Sports bras give you a uni-boob.
14. Leg lifts and squats make some people fart.
15. Some exercises are actually fun.
16. Most are not.
17. Going up 6 flights of stairs with a weighted ball over your head is scary.
18. Giving up wine with dinner is hard.
19. A Roma tomato has 17 calories.
20. Noodle arms and legs is not a good feeling, especially when driving.
21. My shoes weigh 1 pound, my fat does not.
22. Getting up at 5 AM is not any easier after 2 weeks.
23. V8 juice only tastes good with vodka in it.
24. I am not as big of a ninny as I thought.
25. No matter what, going up those stairs is NEVER easy.

Debbie: Bootcamp Ain't for Sissies (from Jan 9)

Boot camp ain't for sissies so why am I going to one? Therein lies the rub - I'm trying to do something I'm totally under qualified for. I've been three times now and it isn't getting easier - yet. The first night was awful. I was having a terrible time trying to keep up with the trainer. Trainer, that's Latin for Evil Spawn of Satan.

The first night I'm thinking we would be doing this stuff at a level appropriate to our abilities - not so much. ESS had us up and down the step things, doing crunches, then up 6 flights of stairs, then stretches, push ups, step things again, crunches, push ups, and again with the six flights of stairs! Only one or two "water breaks" - 2 minutes which he timed! Oh yeah, and no smoke breaks - not a single one!

The second night wasn't quite as bad, by then Chris had told him about my previously broken bones and related injuries from the car wreck, so he modified what I had to do so it wouldn't hurt so badly. Mind you, it still hurt - just not as badly! We had to do lunges, weighs, more lunges, more weights, skipping rope, lunges, squats, crunches, push ups, and again with the six flights of stairs. Yeah we were feeling the burn!

The third night was freakin ridiculous - which is ridiculous squared. This time we had a bit of stuff from the previous nights, weights, lunges, stepping things, jumping ropes, crunches, throwing a heavy ball back and forth to a "fitness partner" (broke 2 nails on that one),
running relays up and down the hallway and of course those damn 6 flights of stairs!

There was a difference the third night - ESS came over to me and modified things that may hurt my previously broken bones, told me to slow down on a couple of exercises so I don't hurt myself "too much" and complimented me for sticking it out so well. He was actually very nice to me, quite compassionate in fact. It made me sort of bad about pushing all those long hat pins in that Rick doll I have. I pulled out a few of them when I got home - I can be compassionate too.

I've learned a lot of things since beginning this boot camp. Things I never knew before, like you have muscles in your arm pits, sports bra come in low, medium and high impact, and even your ear lobes can sweat. Anyway, that's how its been going. Thanks for all the support, encouragement and kind words. Its meant a lot and guilted me into trying a little harder and sticking with it a little longer.

Goldbricking

Noun: goldbricking 'gówld`bri-king
Usage: N. Amer

1. The evasion of work or duty
- shirking, slacking, soldiering, goofing off [N. Amer]


I don't believe in making excuses. The second I hear one coming on from someone I stop listening. Now mind you, I realize some are valid. But most of what I hear is goldbricking.

In all the years of watching my boys play sports, I found there is one on every team. A "goldbricker".
One in particular comes to mind. A boy on my "little guy's" wrestling team. This kid would always go out on the mat and eventually just give up early into the first period. He would then storm off the mat gesturing and throwing a tantrum making comments like "I almost had him". I would sit there and think what baloney I was watching and it would just get me mad. If this kid put a little more effort into wrestling and less in the after show he might have gotten a pin. One thing I have always told my kids is don't EVER be a goldbricker.

Careful what you say because it might come back and bite you.

When I started this Skinny Challenge and was filling out the required paper work, I mentioned to Rick that I was just coming off having a cast on my ankle for six weeks. Torn ligaments are no picnic. The thing that irritates my ankle most...steps. So here we are approaching week three and let me tell you those steps seriously kill me. When I feel like I want to make an excuse, I think of that kid on Stein's wrestling team. I won't be that kid. Ever.

Who new Commodore lyrics could be so prolific?

She's a brick----house
Mighty might just lettin' it all hang out
She's a brick----house
The lady's stacked and that's a fact,
ain't holding nothing back.

This brick house isn't made of gold.

Debbie: WTFO - that's Air Force for WTF - Over!

So now I've completed, a term I use loosely, 2 more sessions and I'm rethinking going for a third. In the meantime, I did hear back from the Geneva Convention folks and they turned down my request for a review - apparently if you are free to leave its not really their definition of torture, details!

Monday night was all about the cardio. I had forgotten to pack my sports bra (high impact) so I was trying to squeeze one more hour out of my 18 Hour bra. We did the nothing but cardio which means non stop motion with varying degrees on intensity sprinkled in just often enough
to keep you from EVER catching your freakin' breath! During the thing called mountain climbers, when you're down on all fours as you alternate which leg is in back - my left shoulder seized up and died. It knocked me to the floor for a nano-second or five. First I just sat there in
the sitting fetal position, rocking back and forth, fighting the stars in my eyes, sirens in my ears, the room spinning, the lights going on and off for no apparent reason and trying not to puke on anyone I like.

(Chris was in front of me and Pat was on my right side which left the stranger on my left as my only possible target). That's a lot to grasp all at once! Pat had to help me up, my body just wasn't responding to my commands but I think I mentally shot about 5 more pins in my Rick
doll. ESS came to check on me, and again he was being nice, even compassionate. But I digress - long story short - the rest of the session ESS told me to go easy so I slacked off a bit. When it was finally, mercifully over I went home, took drugs, a hot shower and crawled into bed, to sleep perchance to dream. . .

Tuesday I started feeling bad for having slacked off on Monday so, after finding out that Pat was going to the 5:30 session, I suited up (including my high impact sports bra) and went on down there. ESS seemed surprised to see me, inquired about my shoulder and said he'd modify his planned session so as not to hurt my shoulder. His weirdly timed compassion is really starting to grate on my nerves! The guilt over the Rick doll and the long pins passed quickly though. We worked on legs and abs. Squats, lunges, crunches, leg lifts, walking lunges, stair climbing squats, stretches, squatting stretches while you lunge - the pain was magnificent, I know he was proud! He was bouncing around with that big ol' smile of his, talking about how much this is helping
us, how its gonna improve our health, our looks, blah, blah, blah - made me want to slap that smile right into next week! When my arms don't hurt so bad I may just do it too!

Priscilla is just wondering...

Day 4

Today was my first evening session. I wasn't sure what to expect but I knew the STAIRS would be waiting. Taunting me with their cementiness. They didn't disappoint! But just like women put the pain of childbirth out of their heads, I am doing the same tonight when it comes to the stairs.

Earlier this afternoon I had decided I would commit to both sessions. I did this despite having a gallery cocktail party to attend with OPEN BAR and FOOD! That is HUGE for me! I am a bit of a "party girl". Not in a Crazy Brit Brit or La Lohan way though. I was told by my fab friend Terrell that I was SoChi's "Holly Golightly". A title I covet! But I prefer to add without the crazy and not married to a Buddy Ebson type. "Jimmy Leg" is no yokel!

I made it through the exhausting 2 hours. I only swore mildly (I was in too much pain to hurl profanities), and I didn't see Satan whenever Rick spoke.

Upon returning home I thought brown rice and fish NEVER looked so good. But then I really do like brown rice and fish.
Then as I was standing in the shower for a VERY long time, scalding water soothing my achy muscles, I thought to myself...

"I wonder if the 11th Hour is going to pay our water and gas bill these next 3 months?" and
"Can I get a stair epidural ?"