Let me clarify that.
When I say deadly combination, what I am NOT saying is: “Wow! Toning sneakers and spinning are together an amazing combination.”
No, I am talking about deadly as in they want to kill me.
One small word (actually many loudly spoken words) of advice for those who are
insane lucky enough to own (or have won) toning sneakers.
DO NOT WEAR THE TONING SNEAKERS ALL DAY IF YOU ARE PLANNING ON GOING TO A SPINNING CLASS THE SAME EVENING.
Because if you do, you may actually find out what it feels like to have legs that refuse to take any more instructions from you and refuse to pedal. One thing is for sure, your legs will be very angry with you.
So remember these words of caution from the owner of some very sore muscles.
when used in combination with these spinning shoes
is enough to make you want to curl up in a ball and lose the will to walk.
Like I said, deadly combination.
Is there anything else I should know about????
I don’t get it. I am not lacking in padding in my bum.
So how the heck does every single bone in that region kill? Even sitting on the toilet hurts.(Yes, I know. That was too much information, but I hurt too much to care.)
I can’t believe I lived through the agony that was getting up/sitting down, getting up/sitting down in spinning class tonight. Good thing the music is really loud so no one heard my moaning and groaning. (Well maybe my husband did, but he’s used to the complaining.)
This does get better right? Because I am walking kinda funny.
On the bright side, I am sure I burned off the chocolate I ate when I got home. (Bad, Bad Susie.)
© William Warby | Flickr Creative Commons
In my quest to be kind to myself and live my life properly, I am
slowly easing myself diving headfirst into exercise after being a coach potato for years. I have a feeling that this time I am going to do a bit better then my measly attempts over the past few years to stick to some kind of exercise program.
tortured myself gone to a Pilates class yesterday , I thought it would be a good idea to go to a spinning class this morning. I dragged my husband along My husband was happy to sign up for the class with me and this morning about 3 hours after he landed from overseas, he found himself on a bike next to me.
Instrument of Torture
It has been quite a few years since I have gone spinning and close to nine years since I taught spinning. (Yes, the mighty have fallen. Going from teaching spinning to trying not to die in class is quite a plunge.) But I made it. Look, I even smiled.
Lucky for me the teacher was really good and enthusiastic. Time passed really quickly after the first ten minutes. At the five minute mark I was already dying and counting minutes. After that for the most part I lost track of time. I did have a moment, 40 minutes into class when
I lost the will to live I ran out of steam, but surprisingly I made it through.
And now if I could just move enough to get undressed and shower, it would be good.
Do you think the hundreds of calories I must have burned in spinning means that today, unlike yesterday I can choose this
Nah, that would defeat the whole purpose.
Any tips for the aches and pains anyone?
I can barely move enough to type. So much for trying to clean my house today.
But it is my fault. After
years a long while of not doing exercise I don’t know what I was thinking going to a Pilates class without checking that it was not an advanced class.
Not only that, it also appears that my first class was extra challenging. It was a day when they did a fitball class. You know, the round rubber torture device that in shape people make look easy.
- Can You believe people are actually able to smile while doing this?
This is all my fault because once upon a time I was really in shape. I exercised seven days a week. Sometimes I even went to double classes. Heck I taught spinning for a while.
Now? I can’t walk around the block without dying. I am so nauseous after that class. I mean physically, as in ready to throw up and I didn’t even overextend myself. I had pity on myself. And in those moments of pity I had a minute to muse over why there were footprints (actual footprints) on the ceiling. I did not have my phone with me or I would have taken pictures to prove the point.) I hope walking on the ceiling is not part of the requirements for this class.
Off to go lay down and get feeling back in my body.
Someone tell me it gets better please……..
Why am I so mean to myself? Why have I let myself get so out of shape that even a twenty or thirty minute walk is physically painful and I think my lungs are going to catch on fire?
After my Kindness Club prompt yesterday I decided I needed to get off my bum and try to at least get some exercise. So after a long really exhausting shift at work, and after managing to pry myself off the couch, I got on the treadmill. Which, you guessed it, decided to break. (No jokes please about me being too heavy.)
So how impressed are you that I dragged myself outside and went for a walk? Even if all that cool lovely fall air managed to set my lungs on fire. But I did it, so kudos to me.
Oh, man. The weather guy just said the heat wave is coming back tomorrow. No treadmill, heat wave. Someone is really trying to challenge me.
AFRAID OF A LITTLE FIRE?
© Stacirl | Flickr Creative Commons
I know what needs to be done.
I know why I want to do it.
I know how I feel now.
I know how I will feel if I get my bum in gear and do it.
And yet, I drag my feet.
I have one false start after another.
So does accountability help or hinder? How many times have I told myself, my family and the world that this is it?
I think once I myself am fully on board I don’t need the accountability. So the question remains. When I am still on shaky ground does knowing I have put myself out there with a statement help me or hinder my efforts?
What do you guys think?
© ben_onthemove | Flickr Creative Commons
“Hey Mom! Can we have those hot dog things in the roll things?” La asked me yesterday around lunch time.
I first of course am going through my mental catalog of hotdog things that I make in my head. “You mean pigs in a blanket?”
“Yeah, those. I want those for lunch,” she said with a wide Cheshire Cat grin.
“Well, let me see if I have everything I need for them…” I am sitting there mentally cussing all the bad eating I did the day before at the child’s birthday party we attended. Hot dog, hamburger, chips, yep, I ate them all- with reckless abandon I might add. “Crap, crap, crap” I sit there thinking whilst peering into the fridge. Yes, we have hot dogs and crecent rolls that I need to make pigs in a blanket. “You sure you don’t just want a regular hot dog?” I ask hopefully.
“Nope, I want some with that roll thingy on it!”
Mentally me “Crap!”
I fished out the package of hotdogs and the package of pastry and started rolling the hot dogs up in their sinful blankets. Popped them in the preheated oven and then waited for them to turn a golden yummy brown.
“Mom, these are really good!” She said while stuffing her mouth full.
“Mmmmm, yes they are!” I said while mentally counting the massive amount of calories I had just ate. You know, some people say that “food doesn’t taste as good as skinny feels”, that might be true, but those pigs in a blanket hit the spot yesterday afternoon and I only feel a teeny tiny bit guilty about it.