Where's the Beef???

I’ve been asked where my blog is… sigh…*hangs head in shame... I went to class Monday, the 16. We worked with the bar and the ball… After class and the next day, I didn’t have pain due to muscles hurting. How exciting a blog entry would be… No pain… Big whoop… Next class please…
As for the next class… Uhh.. I didn’t go. But neither did Ms. Peppy. We both had work that was due so, neither of us went.
Friday… Since I boycotted Wednesday, it was easy to boycott Friday… No excuse. Grrr… I’d kick myself in my maximus gluteus (I know it’s the other way around.. but you haven’t really seen my butt) if I could just get my foot to my butt..
That brings us back to yesterday. Monday… Yes, yes, I did go to class.. Shush… My thighs don’t hurt as much as they did the first time… but they are still tender. What with the squats and bench work on the ball…
I wore a tank over my sport bra and noticed that my upper arms are about as big around as my thigh… That did not set well with me. Great. If I were a chicken, I’d be a very big fatty chicken. Not good for slaughtering. Sigh…
Ms. Perky told us to get two sets of weights. One set medium, one set moderate. I got the 5lbs and 8lbs. weights. We did flys (flies seem wrong…) on the ball, bench presses, and sitting on the ball we did the chicken thingies. Oh… my…. GODS…. Not only did I look absolutely horrible in a tank, my flab was not helping in the chicken arena. Remember my defective left wing??? Yup! Still defective. The right one isn’t far behind. I was trying so hard to get them right… sigh… I’m going to die… I really mean it… Just like my mom was going to die every time she had a cold. "Mom, your not going to die from a cold." "Well, you never know… I might." Note, she did NOT pass away from a cold…
You know the stretch that you put your arms behind you, clasp them, and stretch? Well, I found that I cannot do that. I can get to the clasping part and then I just sit there… Apparently my upper torso (or my thigh-like arms) are too fat to manage that manuver. Very very sad… I can do the cat stretch without problems… I cannot stretch my back…
We did the push ups on the ground as well as with the ball against the wall. I swear with all the crackling I heard, that mirror (which is affixed to the wall) will be coming down soon. The same noise as our glass doors that go to our elevators. Crackle crackle… Ooops, time to replace THAT glass… Startled the woman opening the door… Strong woman, I say… old door everyone else says… WHATever.
Push-ups, then on back. I think the crunches… leg over your knee.. cross crunches… back on back… Ok, there’s a reason I’m no longer in the Army. This is not one of them. Well, it is, but… Hell… switching back and forth is not easy for a woman of size. I was taken out of my PT (Physical Tort.. er… Training) formation (for the people that suck at PT) to demonstrate how to do a proper push-up. Me. The one that can’t even do one in said proper form. I can manage about five on my knees against the floor, and about ten against my bathroom counter. Oooooh… be very very afraid…
Anywho, I got back to my desk with my fixings for a PB&J lunch and noticed my arms felt not just heavy, but like jello. I have heavy jello arms… Alrighty. First thing I did was hold out my hand… Ow.. Nope, not shaking… This either means my arms don’t hurt as much as I thought or my blood sugar probably is in the normal range (I’m hoping… I never did check it)… Proceed with said sandwich making and eat… I contributed my arm weakness to the butt whoopin’ we just got. I mis-spoke… ARM whoopin’. So, I thought… great, even if I was in a wheelchair from thigh rebellion, my arms wouldn’t work.
So, I start trying to type… THAT was a joke! Took me a bit longer to get stuff in the computer for processing. Grrrr… Hunt and Peck is not a productive way to type. But when you have a stick attached to your hand… peck, peck, peck… Where is that darnned key?!? I can type with both hands pretty well, but Hunt and Peck is hard with one finger.
OK, so I get up and ready for work this morning… The heat of the shower was wonderful! As I’m getting ready, I realize that my "girls" hurt. This can only be contributed to yesterday’s session of corporal punishment. Not only do they hurt, my upper arms, shoulders, neck, abs, not so much the buttocks (read like Forest Gump) and my brain… I swear!!!
Today, we get to sign up for another session… I’m weighing the pros and cons in my head. Pros – Getting closer to my goal…. Cons – pain, motivation, and most probable – death.
Now, I understand that my Cons outweigh my Pros… But there you have it. And my decision is… to sign up Ms. Peppy and myself not for Muscle Conditioning, but Core Conditioning. Same torture, different instructor… (dang, what should I name her??)… and only TWO times a week. Monday-Wednesday. Later in the afternoon, too.
How convenient… Ms. Peppy called to ask how I felt… DARNED SORE, THANK YOU!!! She also reminded me of the dips we did with the balls (don’t go there… shame on you all!!!). The balls were pushed up to the wall. The same wall with the mirror that will break any day now. We were to sit on the ball… put our hands to our sides, and come off the ball into a dip in front of it. My ball was so squishy that I could only manage about a quarter inch up… My butt still firmly planted on the ball. My butt no where near the edge to do said dip. But I seriously WAS working my arms.. I swear!!! I’ve got to be the heaviest person in the class.
It sort of resembled watching Skinks doing pushups on a screen… Skinks are these tiny lizard looking things. About 4-5 inches long, completely harmless, very skinny lizards. I hate them for the last part. Not the being lizards, the skinny part. Grrr… Anyway… they would crawl up the screen on my mom’s patio and they’d do these push-up looking things to attract a mate. Why don’t human men do this… I wouldn’t mind if they did that… "Charlie. I’m sorry I can’t see you anymore. Tom can do 15 more push-ups than you…" Who says women aren’t fickle.
Back to Ms. Peppy. So, she has to leave before sign ups for the next class begin… HOW CONVENIENT, MS. PEPPY!!!… But I have her beat… I’m signing her up for class… HA!! She’s in my grasp now… Ok, she gave me permission and requested that we stay in Ms. Perky’s class… I think Ms. Peppy is on those recreational pharmaceuticals again.
Ok.. she’s GUILTING me into going into Ms. Perky’s class again.… On the upside, I won’t have to think of another name for the new instructor, Ms. Perky is already married so hopefully we won’t hear about those mysterious three pounds… Ms. PERKY – DO NOT READ THIS!!! I really enjoy her class, and I really need to start doing the stairs… I need the cardio, and it will help with my thunderous lower appendages. Per Ms. Perky’s instruction… Tues-Thurs I should start walking… Hey, I think I’m doing good with actually making it to class... Even if it occasional. Ms. Perky is such a meanie-head.
I just picked up my water jug… Ow….