Bad Things

As I stagger in tonight, I ease down at the kitchen table and laid my head in the bare wood. I did not realize my cheek bones were so prominent, as I could not find a comfortable position without putting my arm up. Somehow I managed to even make a side trip to the grocery store and get some fruit juice to make a protein shake that remains practically untouched in the freezer. My mother, bless her heart, has the nerve to ask ‘Are you sick?’.

I don’t have a fun knitting story for you tonight, bear with me.

So, my best friend Flexy and I obtained a Groupon, (my newest addiction), for two weeks of an intense boxing workout membership. Let me be clear: Although I have always harbored a secret desire to be a cage fighter, this is a no-contact boxing gym. I did not puke, even after I got home, so that’s a plus. It was a mixed group of all ages and fitness levels, also a plus. There was only one chick there who was in killer shape, so that made me feel much better.

Thankfully, Flexy and I have the type of the relationship to where I don’t feel insecure whilst partaking in all these fitness excursions we get ourselves into. Like I’ve said, she’s my opposite, and her job demands she stays in killer shape. I, on the other hand, am no where near the level of Amazonian I was when I was swimming full time. And she’s never made a comment about it, although she was adamant that I would get sick at least once before we left, (haha). I will admit though, I did take minute pleasure in watching her actually break the same amount of sweat as me. What I lack in stamina, I can make up for in perfecting my form.

As long as I keep all the cardio and jumping around to low-impact, I should live. Within the first 15 minutes of the warm-up, my hearing started to fade and I felt like the room was filled with an ice-cold mist…aka, I about passed out. But, I didn’t!!! And Praise God we didn’t do pushups otherwise I would have cried. Our trainer though was pretty intense. He had us doing some crazy shit. We were practically fornicating with the bags at one point. It got weird. I made both a proper choice and the mistake of wearing knit running pants: comfortable and modest, but not the greatest for gripping a 100lb punching bag with your thighs.

I know I’ve got to work out a little more, set up a schedule to where I can workout and clean up before I go to work at the shelter. It would definitely help with the stress level.

I also need to start eating again.

I’ve been skipping meals. Really bad. With my work schedule putting me at shelter from 3-11pm, it’s easy to eat before, but it’s hard for me to eat while I’m working. I have no appetite the second I clock in. It’s very bizarre, although my dropped jean size surely speaks for itself.

Sleep has been an issue too. I’m sure tonight will be the exception, but my sleep schedule has been way off. I typically wake up at 10:30-11am, piddle around and eat until I go to work, and I came home totally wired until I eventually pass out around 3-4am. Normally, I can cram in some serious knitting time before I doze off, but I think I’m pushing it and I can’t just turn it off.

Now, if I lived in my own apartment, this would not be an issue. I could stay up and watch tv, workout to one of my fitness DVDs, and just be active in some way in general. But living with two full-time working parents who are not vampires, that gets a little tricky.

Hopefully I will eventually bend my body to my will power and we can all get along.

Rach

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