Fitness (or lack thereof)

"Isn't it ironic?"

I've had a membership at our gym at work for most of my career here at Chevron.  Just last week, I was notified that I was the lucky winner of a trivia contest at our Health Fair.  I won a six month membership, a half-hour massage, and two personal training sessions.  Funny how I get the free membership the week before I leave and can't use it anymore since our gym requires badge access!  Anyways, Virginia got a nice birthday gift.  ;)

But I decided to go ahead and jumpstart my plans to get back into running (yay!) by using the personal training sessions this week.  So, I booked two 5:30am appointments with Sam.

I told Sam that I wanted to get back into running and that my goal for the two sessions we had was to learn how to stretch and strengthen my knees to prevent injuries as I add mileage.  So, we hit the floor.  He had me start out with some basic leg presses on the machine and some basic squats and lunges.  He added weights and more challenging strength-building exercises.  About two-thirds of the way in, he commented that I had good form for someone who has never lifted with consistency.  Apparently, my P.E. teachers' constant chiding stuck with me!  He kept giving exercises and I kept doing them.  For about half of them, I'd psych myself up with an outloud, "I can do this."  He seemed to think so, too, because Sam pushed me further than usual.  And I didn't complain.

Maybe I should have complained.

I knew before the end of the workout that I was going to be hurting.  I'm almost positive that I texted Jeremy, "Ouch!" as soon as I was done.

After jumping in the shower (okay, I'm exaggerating about the "jumping" part), I attempted to shave my legs.  Suddenly, I realized the abnormal feat of strength and balance lifting up one leg was requiring of me.  And the thought scared me because if I wasn't careful, my jello legs were about 300 times more likely to have to endure nics and gashes in addition to the muscle fatigue.

Step away from the razor, Dana.  You'll thank me later.

I literally had to convince myself to step onto the two escalators following my workout.  My brain wasn't believing that my legs could safely navigate that trecherous step.

I got to my desk and had to pick up my radio (walkie-talkie) to contact one of my team members.  I seriously wasn't sure that I had been able to hold down the button.  Really?!?  How do you get weakness in your hands from working your quads, glutes, and hammies?  That makes no sense whatsoever.

That was yesterday.

Today, I can hardly move, bend down to pick up anything, sit for long, or even stand for long!  If I know what's good for me, I need to stretch and move and keep going.

So, Sam, I promised you that I wouldn't curse your name and although I'm in extraordinary pain, I'm not one to back down on a challenge that I think I can take... so, I'll see YOU on Friday!