They throw the pigskin, we eat the pig flesh!

Mother Nature. One of my biggest pet peeves during winter is parking at the rec, so if you could just avoid that parking lot when you preceipitate between October and May, that would rock.
Mom likes the crusties of the pork.

So what if I like watermelon....alot.

It's not a Super Bowl without Sprinkles cupcakes! This year was banana with a maple frosting.

Is there Working Out Anonymous?

I think I might have a problem. An addiction if you will. So we are in the middle of the snowpocalypse, blizzard, average snowfall for an Iowan February, whatever you want to call it. Schools are closing, people are driving like they were taught by Mr. Magoo, and stores are running out of eggs and milk (because clearly thats all we need to survive the 12 hours we might be stuck inside).

But my phone rang moments ago. Unknown local number. I screen my calls (because I'm deaf and have a hard enough time understanding the people I know and love that call me) but Tim decides that he'll answer it for me. Well, it turns out it was one of my instructors at the rec center (mind you, NOT my personal trainer) calling to let me know that her class was cancelled for tomorrow morning and she just wanted to let me know personally so I wouldn't risk my life coming in thinking I would be able to work my nonexistant (yet still somehow sore) triceps.

Now, it might not seem like its a big deal. But this woman isn't a friend of mine. We don't hang out. We've never hung out. I didn't even know she knew my name, let alone had my phone number to call me at home to let me know that I dont need to come in that early. This is a sign that I might be there a little too much. Instructors know i am there every possible second I can be, and will be there no matter what.

Case in point the fact that I was at the gym three different times today. In the morning for pilates and some biking, in the afternoon for more biking, and then this evening for bootcamp class. Those are Tuesdays and Thursdays. Mondays and Wednesdays are worse though. Upper body class, yoga class, biking, and abs class. Fridays are personal training and biking.

The sad part is that I would be there even more if I didn't have both a treadmill and elliptical in my house....

Fat and Fakin It

I don't know if I would go as far as to say that I'm a gym rat, but I feel like I am there enough to no longer be considered a poser. And now that I have the Legit Gym User status, the people that don't, drive me INSANE. I mean really, quit fooling yourself, you are just wasting your time and blocking my use of the bike with the good head phone jack.

This past week has been a great example of nearly every pet peeve I have at the gym, including:

-wearing button down collared shirts (ex. the Mayor wearing Hawaiian print)
-unlaced shoes
-shoes not meant for working out, Chucks, designer "tennis shoes"
-jeans (ESPECIALLY during yoga. Denim does not stretch people)
-being drenched in cologne (I should not choke for minutes after you walk by, breathing is rather important during cardio)
-elaborate jewelry
-long hair being worn down (if you arent sweating enough for that to be annoying, you shouldnt be there)

And this doesnt even begin to actually start my annoyances with using the equipment, like the guy that treats the rehab bike like its a normal bike despite the HUGE clacking "Im breaking" noise with each foot push......

Blurp!

Uncle Sam stole my money. Lots of it. So did my dentist, but I feel like he actually earned that money, or most of it. Argh.

I feel like my bank account is steadily growing smaller, and we haven't even left yet. Last weekend, in Chicago, my lovely adorable awesome parents bought us two trail packs and a smaller pack for our trip. I love them. The trail packs are gorgeous, and the smaller one is BRIGHT orange. A few years ago, I would never have picked it, and now I wish I could carry it everywhere!

Tim and I also splurged at REI and bought ourselves waterproof hiking shoes. Mine are hideous. Why buy hideous shoes you ask? Because they were more comfortable than the cute ones. But hobbits really can't be judging MY feet, right? ;)

PS. During my training session this morning, she had me flapping like a bird in the hallway. Nope, not humiliating at all....

Null and Void.

I worked out hard this morning with my trainer. Like killer hard.

And then I get to work, and there on the desk are Carolyn's RIDIDCULOUSLY amazing cinnamon rolls that we get about twice a year.

Irrestible. Completely.

Ugh. There goes the gym session. I suck.

My mother is on facebook, and I cant move unless the rec center comes with me.

Ok, so I promised an actual piece of literary genius. That aint gonna happen folks. But I will at least put out effort into something. I even paused my movie to do this, so feel special, cause frankly, Kevin Smith was making me do some chuckling about working with Bruce Willis....anyways.

My mother joined facebook yesterday. Well, she joined a long time ago, but it was doubtful she even knew how to sign in let alone accept a friend invite. But yesterday a friend of hers taught her how to do the basic stuff and now she is rather obcessed. The world is coming to an end. When my friends text me that my mother is talking to them via the world of a website where we all have pictures of us and status' that no one wants even their boss to see, let alone their mother. Lord help us all.

I started a cycling class last week. Meets twice a week, half hour cycling, half hour light weights and more muscle building schtuff. And it made me realize that I will never be able to move anywhere ever again. I cannot bear to leave my precious Cedar Falls rec center. I know who I like, I know who I dont like, I know what machines rock and which ones were used by Lou Ferrigno while training for the Hulk in the 70s. I know who smells, and what ball to use for what exercise. I got the place down. I have become very fond of my classes there and know from experience with substitute instructors, that finding new ones is going to be reckoned with teeth gnashing. I enjoy my routine of light salutation yoga then core class on MW, followed with cycling and hardcore yoga on TTh. Why mess with success?

So that just fixes that. I can't move. Unless the rec center comes with me!

On a sidenote, I just ate some canteloupe that tasted like butterscotch. Weird? I think so. Delightfully delicious? Completely!