Float Like a Middle Aged Out of Shape Butterfly
The other day after a recap of my Saturday morning my sister-out-law suggested I start blogging again. Blame her, she can be reached at 856- just kidding. She's a beautiful soul. There are many out there and the secret of life is finding them and ignoring the assholes. It's a battle.
I'm going to try to dive back in...
Once again I've decided to jump on the exercise bandwagon. Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy spirit and self improvement. I do this every so often and I'm starting to think if I just shrink the time in between 'fads' I may end up with a mildly decent lifestyle. That's spindoctering 101. Like Yoda I am.
I think it was back in November when we moved into the new digs that I determined I would sign up with 9Rounds a circuit training gym where Cross Fit meets Curves. I think that's a pretty accurate description. Like if you said, "Hey Marge, you need to step up your Curves game and Brooklyn you snapped an ankle and should bring it down a notch or seven." You'd be at 9Rounds. It's perfect!
Moving, holidays, the fear of fighting the droves of New Year Resolution Groupies, I've delayed it long enough. I didn't even go yesterday because I was observing Martin Luther King Day peacefully and - no punching. And at last I've run out of excuses.
It's a small setup. Maybe 60 x 40 at the most? I won't use the real name of the young lad who greeted and coached me, let's call him Flame. Flame could be a goddamn male model. He was very pleasant as I explained I was there for my first session, free by the way until I decide this is a commitment I want to make. I sign a waiver saying I am fit to exercise and waive any lawsuits due to flat out lying or being a spaz. It's esigning which looks like WWWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW but illegible. My answer to fitness level? Intermediate. Oh I'm a baller.
Flame explains that there are 9 stations. I look surprised like I just made the connection with the name of the place, when he turns his back I roll my eyes. He asks, "Have you ever done anything like this before?" I answer, "Oh I did Tae Bo 300 years ago." I chuckle, I'm adorable. He goes, "Oh my Mom did Tae Bo." I knew this was boxing but I didn't realize I'd have the wind taken out of my by a sucker punch quite so early in the game. I bend over, hands on knees suck some air and think, "Pull yourself together you old gray mare." and then I think, "Ooooh I should pickup Jasmine after this, General's Chicken for the Mr. and Vietnamese noodles with chicken for me." His Mom, punk ass male model. At this point I think 'when I master boxing at this strip mall, which should take no more than 4 weeks, the first person I'm going to beat up is Flame.' Then I'm over it. I don't have the mental focus or desire to stew. It causes wrinkles and I'm not dumping money into Aveeno, Crest 2 Step Whitening and Ulta hair coloring to blow it all on grimace divets in between my eyes.
We start at station 1, he explains the horn going off, 3 minute work outs, 30 second warning before the workout is done and 30 seconds in between workouts. I give zero shits. I heard 3 minutes and I know it's 9 things. "How long has it been since you've jumped rope." "I bet I haven't picked up a jump rope since you were still soiling a diaper." And say diaper like DI - a - per cause it's fun. I didn't say that but thought it. I KNOW HOW TO JUMP ROPE FLAME!!! I start by doing the thing where you put your foot on the rope like you have a clue then I start jumping with two jumps between rotations of the rope then I remember how Rocky did the single non-stop jump and I go right to it. 18 seconds in I'm winded and think, "Jesus suffering Christ! I can't do this! and it's 3 minutes and I wrote down INTERMEDIATE!!" I do the double jump and even that is kicking my butt. I start to wonder what Flame's mom is up to and hope she's at a happy hour somewhere telling people her son failed out of medical school and works in a strip mall.
I lived through jump rope and moved over to squats. I can squat for days - I make horrible noises and my face turns beet red but I can hold my own. Even Flame compliments me on my form. At this point I realize that I'm going to have issues walking tomorrow, no doubt.
Next is the punching bag tethered from the floor and ceiling I realize my depth perception is for shit. I'm swinging and missing and getting madder and madder. Fourth station - kicking the heavy bag. That's fun but my left hip is tweaky and I'm concerned I'm going to take a digger into the mat. I live. Onto upper cut punches with the large ball hanging from the ceiling. This is where I thought of punching someone, anyone, okay specific people and it was FUN and then I had to duck under the bag and come up, oh now we're doing boxing type things. Bitchin! Onto the heavy bag and round house kicks - I think of Billy Banks and how I bet Flame's mom thought he was as hot like I did. If I had had the breath I would have yelled, "Hey Flame, you know your Mom thought Billy Banks was hot dontcha???"
Station 7 was a sawhorse hanging bag that you pound on from the top with your gloves and knee from underneath then kick up underneath. It was cool but my steam was running out..... Station 8 was the speedbag. I've never done one of these in real life. I'm certain my timing will improve. Station 9 get on the floor and do situps with a pseudo medicine ball. 3 minutes straight - non-effin-stop. This means my stomach got a workout and tomorrow when I have to sneeze, I will more than likely pee myself. Friggin Flame.
I'm committed to 6 months. I have my own gloves, a mini glove for my key chain, a heart monitor, which is probably more of a necessary than a nicety. I'm going tomorrow after work. I ordered food from Jasmine and as I walked in my legs felt like one of those knicknacks where you push the bottom up and it's legs collapse. Really cool stuff. I made it home and took a shower. It was several minutes until I realize I had my glasses on IN THE SHOWER. It's just a matter of time before my keys are in the fridge.
Happy New Year!
I'm going to try to dive back in...
Once again I've decided to jump on the exercise bandwagon. Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy spirit and self improvement. I do this every so often and I'm starting to think if I just shrink the time in between 'fads' I may end up with a mildly decent lifestyle. That's spindoctering 101. Like Yoda I am.
I think it was back in November when we moved into the new digs that I determined I would sign up with 9Rounds a circuit training gym where Cross Fit meets Curves. I think that's a pretty accurate description. Like if you said, "Hey Marge, you need to step up your Curves game and Brooklyn you snapped an ankle and should bring it down a notch or seven." You'd be at 9Rounds. It's perfect!
Moving, holidays, the fear of fighting the droves of New Year Resolution Groupies, I've delayed it long enough. I didn't even go yesterday because I was observing Martin Luther King Day peacefully and - no punching. And at last I've run out of excuses.
It's a small setup. Maybe 60 x 40 at the most? I won't use the real name of the young lad who greeted and coached me, let's call him Flame. Flame could be a goddamn male model. He was very pleasant as I explained I was there for my first session, free by the way until I decide this is a commitment I want to make. I sign a waiver saying I am fit to exercise and waive any lawsuits due to flat out lying or being a spaz. It's esigning which looks like WWWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW but illegible. My answer to fitness level? Intermediate. Oh I'm a baller.
Flame explains that there are 9 stations. I look surprised like I just made the connection with the name of the place, when he turns his back I roll my eyes. He asks, "Have you ever done anything like this before?" I answer, "Oh I did Tae Bo 300 years ago." I chuckle, I'm adorable. He goes, "Oh my Mom did Tae Bo." I knew this was boxing but I didn't realize I'd have the wind taken out of my by a sucker punch quite so early in the game. I bend over, hands on knees suck some air and think, "Pull yourself together you old gray mare." and then I think, "Ooooh I should pickup Jasmine after this, General's Chicken for the Mr. and Vietnamese noodles with chicken for me." His Mom, punk ass male model. At this point I think 'when I master boxing at this strip mall, which should take no more than 4 weeks, the first person I'm going to beat up is Flame.' Then I'm over it. I don't have the mental focus or desire to stew. It causes wrinkles and I'm not dumping money into Aveeno, Crest 2 Step Whitening and Ulta hair coloring to blow it all on grimace divets in between my eyes.
We start at station 1, he explains the horn going off, 3 minute work outs, 30 second warning before the workout is done and 30 seconds in between workouts. I give zero shits. I heard 3 minutes and I know it's 9 things. "How long has it been since you've jumped rope." "I bet I haven't picked up a jump rope since you were still soiling a diaper." And say diaper like DI - a - per cause it's fun. I didn't say that but thought it. I KNOW HOW TO JUMP ROPE FLAME!!! I start by doing the thing where you put your foot on the rope like you have a clue then I start jumping with two jumps between rotations of the rope then I remember how Rocky did the single non-stop jump and I go right to it. 18 seconds in I'm winded and think, "Jesus suffering Christ! I can't do this! and it's 3 minutes and I wrote down INTERMEDIATE!!" I do the double jump and even that is kicking my butt. I start to wonder what Flame's mom is up to and hope she's at a happy hour somewhere telling people her son failed out of medical school and works in a strip mall.
I lived through jump rope and moved over to squats. I can squat for days - I make horrible noises and my face turns beet red but I can hold my own. Even Flame compliments me on my form. At this point I realize that I'm going to have issues walking tomorrow, no doubt.
Next is the punching bag tethered from the floor and ceiling I realize my depth perception is for shit. I'm swinging and missing and getting madder and madder. Fourth station - kicking the heavy bag. That's fun but my left hip is tweaky and I'm concerned I'm going to take a digger into the mat. I live. Onto upper cut punches with the large ball hanging from the ceiling. This is where I thought of punching someone, anyone, okay specific people and it was FUN and then I had to duck under the bag and come up, oh now we're doing boxing type things. Bitchin! Onto the heavy bag and round house kicks - I think of Billy Banks and how I bet Flame's mom thought he was as hot like I did. If I had had the breath I would have yelled, "Hey Flame, you know your Mom thought Billy Banks was hot dontcha???"
Station 7 was a sawhorse hanging bag that you pound on from the top with your gloves and knee from underneath then kick up underneath. It was cool but my steam was running out..... Station 8 was the speedbag. I've never done one of these in real life. I'm certain my timing will improve. Station 9 get on the floor and do situps with a pseudo medicine ball. 3 minutes straight - non-effin-stop. This means my stomach got a workout and tomorrow when I have to sneeze, I will more than likely pee myself. Friggin Flame.
I'm committed to 6 months. I have my own gloves, a mini glove for my key chain, a heart monitor, which is probably more of a necessary than a nicety. I'm going tomorrow after work. I ordered food from Jasmine and as I walked in my legs felt like one of those knicknacks where you push the bottom up and it's legs collapse. Really cool stuff. I made it home and took a shower. It was several minutes until I realize I had my glasses on IN THE SHOWER. It's just a matter of time before my keys are in the fridge.
Happy New Year!
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