Balance, Balance, Balance

I should really be writing these in sequential order -- but, as I started a week after I 'started', oh well.

I used to run, and I use the term 'used to' very loosely.  I got out of the Army about ten years ago -- exactly ten this summer, wow has it been that long?  Good grief.  Let's see, six years in, ten years out, add 18 to that, yup, 34, so the math is correct.  But, I digress.

Exactly ten years ago, I wasn't doing much Physical Training. Lemme see, it's almost March as I write this, so ten years ago I was about a million months pregnant, with Aidan...who will be, you guessed it, ten in early May.

Back up a few years from that--before Timmy, so keep going. I used to work out hard in the Army.  I mean four or five days a week of mandatory running, push ups, sit-ups and any other medieval exercise the Army can come up with. Never, well maybe rarely, did I leave PT (Physical Training) dripping wet in sweat, and not even wanting to be near myself.

Move forward that decade plus I just mentioned, and enter Average Joe trainer.

He has me working out 6 days a week.  Four of those days I do at least 45 minutes of heavy cardio on the elliptical machine.  And when I say heavy, I mean heavy.  A cross between 45 straight minutes on high resistance, burning my thighs and ass the whole time -- of for a change up, that blasted interval training for the full 45 minutes. Two other days of the week, he ALSO has me do one-hour of intensive weight training.  I hurt just thinking about it.

Granted, even on the light days -- the cardio only days -- I leave knowing I have burned just under 400 calories ... on a bad day.

400 calories, that's about this:

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Mmmm, yellow cake with chocolate frosting. It will be the death of me. I love it so, and look at this baby, not just yellow cake with chocolate frosting--but TEN layer yellow cake with chocolate frosting.  And just for good measure, Strawberries, you know in case you didn't get enough sugar.  It's like buying the farm and going to heaven.   On the farm.  Which clearly grows strawberries and wheat for the cake. And probably has other things like sugar cane for the frosting.

Or maybe it's just a farm with a pastry chef. Count me in.

That is what I think about starting at about minute 23 on the elliptical.  While listening to Adele belt out songs.  Yeah, I will set fire to the rain while eating that.

Which brings me to my next point.

The other day I am dripping with sweat on about minute 38 of the elliptical. Yes I count those minutes.  Average Joe trainer walks, or mozies, or sashes over and gets on the elliptical next to mine, where I am panting, sweating, nearly done, and STARVED.

He looks at me like, "I want to talk," and I politely take off my earbuds--which are probably blasting some U2 song and say "hi."

"If" he says, deep in thought, "you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

Well, we're about 15 minutes (at least) into my fantasy about pumping yellow cake with chocolate frosting directly into my bloodstream, so yeah, this is a no brainer.  Even though I do honestly know it's a terrible, terrible trap.

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Yeah, it's a trap, just like that.  But, as almost 40 minutes of dripping sweat have passed, I am going ahead with 'the truth.'

"I want a yellow cake with chocolate frosting.  Not a piece, the whole cake."  (Remember that previous post about my daughter's mad baking skills?  Yeah, that's what I am up against here.)

"Ah," he says, "I see." He is now looking out into the distance (there is a fat chick in front of us) wistfully, like he is trapped deep in thought...deep thought like he may have just figured out the meaning of life, the universe and everything.

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After a brief pause, and I am not sure if he actually got to the number 42, he says: "If you have one bite, I will have you doing puke drills all week long."

Three minutes to go on the elliptical, as he get's down and goes about his business and now I have to choose a new song to push through with.

The Clash. Should I stay, or should I go.

Easy enough.

The first time on a balance ball, kinda...

So, you know those little half balance ball thingies?  They are actually called "Bosu Balls," and yeah, I had to google "half balance ball" to try to get the real name.  Well, Average Joe trainer, in his infinite wisdom decides he needs to find out how good my balance is, using one of these crazy contraptions.

Yeah, I can trip and fall flat on my face on flat, stable surfaces.  I have slipped and fell for no reason at all and regularly wake up with bruises I can't figure out where they came from.  So, umm, yeah, are you sure, Average Joe?

He shows me how to get on, because there is a trick when you are using the ball portion as the floor and the stable portion to put your feet on.  I slip my feet the way he says, get up on the ball and...THUD.

Yeah twisted myself around, fell all over the place, and was flat on my back after a mere 1.2 seconds on the Bosu Ball.  Fan freakin' tastic.

In his overwhelming sympathetic response, Average Joe says, "Don't worry, we only caught that on closed circuit security cameras, so when we play it back this afternoon, in and endless loop, we won't hear the thud."

Awesome.  That's why they chose Average Joe for me, I suppose.

So, I get back on the ball and he proceeds to make me do endless squats, "testing my balance" he says.   Then its inverted leg lifts or something, where you hang off the end of a perfectly good (for sitting) chair and lift your legs to your chest...all while maintaining "Captain Morgan" posture.   Meanwhile he is quizzing me on hip-flexors, and stuff like what muscles I should be using.

The rest of the leg workout is kind of a blur--I just remember being terrified of falling off the balance balls again.  Then when we finished, I felt pretty good.  1 hour down. Whoo-hoo!! I made it!

"Now get on the elliptical for 45 minutes." Average Joe adds.

Excuse, where is my excuse, I have to have an excuse here somewhere.