Hold On, Ready Or Not

And aspirin. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Because I forgot how much pain P90X inflicts upon my body. Is this just a woman thing? Guys, do you remember how much it sucked the last time you started working out hard? Of course you do because that’s the way you’re wired. But oh no, not us ladies. We forget these painful things until they are upon us again. Like childbirth. Because really? If you could really remember what that felt like, would you go through it again? Yeah, some of you would. I would not and I don’t remember.

So let’s see…a quick body check:

  • Neck – finally feels better after two hard snowboarding crashes.
  • Shoulders – ouch
  • Upper back – tight
  • Delts and pecs – don’t even ask
  • Obliques – don’t turn around quickly
  • Abs – surprisingly painless
  • Hips – that neverending story of discomfort
  • Quads – I have scootch leg, I swear
  • Hammies – not too bad
  • Hip flexors – trying to claw their way out of my body
  • Calves – need more stretching but at least they don’t hurt
  • Feet – need love

So those feet, let’s chat about them for a moment. If you watch football, and of course you watch football, or any other sport, or you STRUGGLE TO POINT YOUR TOES, perhaps you’ve heard of plantar fasciitis. This little nasty can happen when the fascia on the bottom of your feet tightens up. From what I understand, it hurts a lot. Right, Eli?
Don’t wanna get that? Hell, no. Me either. To work towards never having this terrible ailment, get that lacrosse ball out and roll out those arches! If you’re like me, it’s gonna hurt like hell, but you’ll suffer through because a pointed toe/foot is so much prettier than a flexed one. And we all use and abuse our poor feet so much, they deserve some lovin too.
You’re still here? Go get that ball and get to rolling! I’ll see you back here tomorrow after work, Zumba, and, as come on, Shoulders and Arms and Ab Ripper X?!? I’m done.

Well, It Isn’t

The video quality there is not so hot, but it ain’t my fault.

Sorry, this post doesn’t really go along with the song, but it was the last thing I heard before I got out of the car last night and I knew that I wanted to use it this morning. This morning, where I’m coming to you live from the basement, either in pigeon pose or foam rolling my inner thighs. Have you ever foam rolled your inner thighs? Like down towards your knee? I’ll let you in on a secret. IT FUCKING HURTS! Damn you, fascia! Damn you, ego, for wanting to move around like a 20 year old when you never even started stretching until  you were almost 30. Damn you hot knives jamming in my leg..oh no, that’s just the roller. It might be possible that I have the tightest hips on the planet. I think I need more hot tub time. Yeah, that’s the ticket. The bonus is that I can have it, I just have to make my way over to the gym. Best $20 a month I spend without doubt. I’m up $20 a month after only going to Zumba. Everything else is a double bonus.

I’ll tell ya what is not a bonus. It’s barely been above 30 degrees here for the last week. I do not mind the temperature because I spend very little time outside when I’m not fully dressed for it. What I *do* mind is the return of spiders. In case you buggers didn’t know, which obviously you didn’t, it is NOT yet spider season. I do not wish to see you (blurrily) out of the corner of my eye when I am working out/stretching/doing yoga. How do you think I can focus on what I am doing when I constantly have to worry about where you went?!?! I’d ask how you even got in, but that would just be a stupid question. I mean, you are a spider and you’re kinda small. Big enough that I’m concerned you might have the ability to bite, but still small in the grand scheme of things. Hear that, spiders? You’re still small UNDER MY SHOE! Today, you live. Tomorrow, we’ll see.

Last night I went to my first group pole class in I don’t know how long. Ugh. I’d call myself a deer on ice skates, but that would be too graceful to describe the hot mess that I currently am. Nothing like a little hiatus to take you back to square negative one. Some takeaways from class include I need to stretch even more (or get new hips), P90X3 may not be nearly enough and I might need to lift, and flow, flow, flow not herk-e. Jerk-e. I’ve not made it to the section yet that really involves weights as that’s in another 2 weeks, but I could see myself going back to the original. It might totally mess up my morning routine, but it’ll be worth it. Probably crazy with this morning routine, but you know, goals and junk.

Just as I suspected, this short week is well on its way to taking forever. Even when I have classes after work, somehow things are still slowing down. Every now and again, I consider more Zumba, but I try not to leave my poor hubby all by his lonesome too many times a week even though he is supposed to be playing Rocksmith while I’m out working out. Tough being married to me, all being expected to play video games. Ah, that reminds me that I haven’t played my own set of video games in a while. So much to do, so little time. Still have to catch up on the first three episodes of The Following. Did manage to catch up on The Blacklist though. I honestly never knew how much I loved James Spader until this show came along. Not young James Spader, now James Spader, particularly as Red. Easily my favorite tv villian-ish guy. I think these are the characters I enjoy the most. Give me a Red Reddington or a Hannibal Lechter any day. Yes, I’ll probably end up tv-dead, but it’ll be fun while it lasts.

Alright, I’m about to go head-to-head and toe-to-toe with Tuesday.Keep  your guard up and strike when your opponent’s guard is down. Work the jab and throw in a combo here and there. Don’t go flat-footed and let’s get that KO! Yeah, watch boxing much?

Sex On My Feet

This is not a foot fetish porn site. Today.

A couple weeks ago, I had a list of items to purchase. The first was a day planner which I got almost immediately. Like a complete moron, it took me another week of looking at it to realize that it did indeed have Sundays, they were just less than half of a column under Saturdays. Too much big picture. The second item lends to the title of this post.

New shoes! New shoes!
New shoes! New shoes!

Ahhh, the new foot girls. I cannot really even begin to put into words how much I love a new pair of Nikes! Yes, in this manner, and this manner alone, I am a shoe whore. I’m a Nike fangirl. Ever since I’ve been in the position to buy my own shoes, outside of perhaps one shoe mistake, they’ve all been Nikes. I don’t know what it is about the way that they structure their shoe, or perhaps it’s the weirdness of my foot, but they’re the only shoes that fit me right these days. And for that, I think I might lurve them.

I almost ended up with plain white, but a) they made my feet look huge, and in a size 7 that’s just unacceptable, and b) they didn’t have them in my size (I tried a 7.5 and looked like a clown) and I wasn’t driving across town to the other DSW to go get them because football was coming on. So out of my usual shoebox I stepped because I don’t usually get black sneakers and I almost never buy anything pink/hot pink.

This is where my priorities (or my line of work) are probably out of whack. I have no problem whatsoever dropping $100 bucks on sneakers, however, chances of me shopping for a pair of flats/pumps/heels for work and paying more than about $20 at Payless? Hellz no. It’s the same with my workout gear. $40 yoga pants? Yes. $30 pants for work? Ha, no. It’s not all bad though. While writing isn’t work (yet?), nor is it working out (maybe for my brain), I am considering matching what I spent on bettering myself at work to what I might spend bettering my writing. I still have 2 1 day left to decide. If I do this, it means I push my work project (not actually for work, but for me to learn something “professional”) back a couple months. Not the end of the world, but a decision I have to make rather quickly as procrastination is my middle name. I was going to make it my first name, but I waited too long.


Screenshot_2014-01-21-06-13-31See these three guys over on the left? Today’s trigger points (in the sartorius) are brought to you by the phrases OMG, WTF, and Holy Sh!t that hurts! If you’ve never had the wonderful opportunity to use a foam roller on trigger points, let me try to explain it to you by taking us all back to our respective childhoods.

Perhaps you remember when someone gave you a “frog” in your arm. Yeah, that dick. Imagine if in that spot where you got the frog, you just kept pressing on that spot…on purpose…until it stopped hurting. It sucks. I mean, find one of those three spots on your body and just press into it with your knuckle. It HURTS! But fixing it, or at least giving it the old college try, is what’s gonna sorta help my hip that’s all tight and doesn’t wanna move. Yes, I torture myself with random things every weekday morning that is not a holiday and sometimes on weekends.

Sidebar: I am entirely jealous that one person in this house is going to Breck today instead of going to work. I would probably do the same if we did not have a new person starting today that I’m responsible for training and I didn’t just get a new promotion and I was sure that I had the extra days to take off. Sigh.

You  know, I would say “hey, at least it’s a short week”, but it seems as though short weeks take even longer than regular weeks! I guess getting back into my Zumba routine twice a week should help things move along. And I might as well go since I have the rockingest deal ever from work where I pay such a tiny amount monthly to go to, basically, the most pimped out gym in the area. Easily the biggest perk of my job. (Again, see how my priorities are out of whack.)

So rather than that short week nonsense, let’s go with, “hey, it’s already Tuesday!” instead. Do short weeks feel like they last longer than regular weeks for you as well? Whatever it is for you, rock it out!

Open Says Me!

If I could go back in time to when I was, oh, let’s say under 16, I would tell that me to stretch. And to be serious about it because in 10 years, you’re really going to want more flexibility when you start learning the flying trapeze. If I could go back to when I was about 26, I’d again tell myself to stretch and stick with it because 26 isn’t too late to start and it would be really helpful with this flying trapeze stuff, and in about 10 years, you’re really going to want more flexibility when you take up pole dancing. And if I could go back to when I was about 36, I’d give myself the same damn lecture about how 36 isn’t too late and you can still be flexible if you just commit to working on it! Now, at 40, I’m looking back and kicking myself because if at any of those times, I had just stuck with it, I would be so much better off now! But alas, my name is not Stewart Gilligan Griffin and I do not have a time machine. As such, I am left with stretching to the best of my ability and attempting to foam roll the scar tissue that’s built up around my hips. I need to get it Graston-ed out, but I’m not interested in another trip to the crazy hip doctor that just wants to cut me open. Oh well. More foam roller!

Sidebar: I’m standing in the kitchen looking at the sunrise through the blinds. It’s so crazy red out there! I’d take a picture but it just wouldn’t do this sunrise justice.

Now that I’m a boss, of sorts, I will make this promise: I will never be ambiguous about calling meetings. I know that I’ve hated when a manager scheduled a meeting with no inkling as to why. It’s a natural human reaction to be concerned that you’ve done something wrong. I promise to not leave people hanging, and if you did do something wrong, I’m going to let you know up front that is going to be the topic of conversation. No hiding shit for me.

Work is pretty much a madhouse, which means I am falling behind with my PHP learning. I see now that I am going to have to designate more time at home to learning. Blah! I do still need to remember, however, that we are only halfway through January and there are 11 more months in the year still. I want to finish PHP and SharePoint by December 31. Reasonable goals. And so, I’m off to achieve! How are you doing with your January/2014 goals?

It Was The Best Of Times

It was the worst of times. Not classic books. Not classic rock. I’m talking about these twenty minutes  on the foam roller. OMG OUCH! Yep, I’m paying today for snowboarding without stretching on Saturday and also not following up that riding day with hot tub time (machine). No one to blame but myself, and I’m pointing that finger pretty hard this morning. This morning where I have the hips of,gasp, a 40 year old! Or maybe it’s just that I have beast quads and I just need to get the scar tissue broken up in them. Either way, I probably need help. Like a yoga chair. It’s high on the list.

Today officially starts this new job era for me. I’m partially looking forward to it, partially dreading it, and totally looking forward to my first paycheck. The fun never ends when you just aren’t sure when that’ll happen. Granted, I know that it will for certain by the end of the month, but will they break me off a little sumthin sumthin before that? You just never know here in ye olde Corporate America. Makes me wish, every now and again, that I could just skip it all and go back to bartending. Ah, that fun. Definitely where I’m at my best when I can smartmouth you and you’re gonna take it because you want your drink. No, wait, you want the drink that I made for you because, well, I’m a kickass bartender. But, reality struck (Better find out before your time’s out, what the f!%$!!) and real jobs happened and now I have too much stuff to go back. First world problems.

I think I’ll start openly talking about girl issues here. Why? Well, because it’s my blog and I don’t think that any of my 4 readers are male. You’ll have to make a comment down below if you are indeed male and then perhaps I will scale back the vagina monologues. But until then, I was so sad last week because I had started working out and I still felt as though I was the size of a bounce house. Fortunately, I came to the realization that I was just bloated from that wonder of nature that we ladies experience but I can’t wait to stop experiencing either by menopause (too long to wait) or surgical intervention (when I think I could find 3 weeks where I could sit still to recover). Man, you’d think my life is a lot rougher than it is. (I know I have it good. A lot better than some others. I’m not complaining. Much.)

At almost two weeks into the new year – where it alternates between feeling like January should be over already and it should be somewhere around the second day of the month – I’ve actually surprised myself by getting in here and writing down something, even if it’s only a few sentences, every day so far. 21 days creates a habit right? Or is that 30? And is it same time, same place? Ah well, I’ll just stick with being happy that we’re two weeks in and I’m still writing. My money is in the jar for the 52 week challenge. I’m working out. I’m stretching. I jumped (off of a very small jump) on my snowboard. 2014 is going well. The only thing where I’m falling behind is a latecomer to the ‘things I want to do’ party. I want to get a short story down once a week. By the end of the year, I’ll have an anthology of sorts. Dirty stories. Because they’re the easiest to write. But people are still out there reading Penthouse forum, so I bet they’ll read this.

Well, the time to get moving is upon us. Or at least, it’s upon me. Let’s get out there and get it in week three of the year. This week looks like two Zumba classes, a FabPole class, more working out, more stretching, and snowboarding on the weekend. How’s it looking for you?