Poor Form

I learned I have bad form.hook

I went to do squats and a girl took the only other squat rack right next to me. I thought to myself, “Game on” because I’m overly competitive and turn everything into a challenge.

We both put the same amount of weights on the bar. Then we both went to it.

And I got my ass handed to me.

This girl had the same weight on the bar as me, sure, but she went twice as deep into the squat as I did. And when I barely made it through my three sets of 10, she was just starting to add weight to do more sets.

She owned me. In a competition I made up. She wasn’t even paying any attention to me. She was too busy being beast.

Double owned.

So I did what I always do when someone hands me my ass… I decided to get better. I promised myself from now on, I’m gonna have better form for my squats. I’m gonna go deep into that squat.  Even if it means I have to go down in weight. Even if it means I can’t do as many reps. Even if it means my legs shake and burn. I’m doing it. Then, when I meet again my squat rival, we can go toe for toe.

Or in this case, butt for butt. Like J.Lo and Iggy.

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Gym Date Night

Xena-Warrior-Princess0013I have discovered an amazing night to go to my gym. Part of me wants to hold back and not tell you when it is… but the other part of me knows that you’re probably busy with “having a life” anyway… so I’ll share.

Friday night. The last hour before the gym closes. I’m gonna call it: Magic Hour.

Why?

Because it was magical.

Allow me to paint the picture…

I walk downstairs to drop off my bag in the locker room, like I usually do, only to see it’s mostly abandoned. I guess the rest of the women who live in my area were out on “dates” or “hanging with their friends.” It was just me and the worker who was cleaning it. It was silent. And wonderful.

I step outside to my weight room to look for leg stuff. I figure if you don’t have much time to workout, might as well work on leg stuff to get the most bang for your buck.

I look around. There are a good handful of people there. And they’re all men. No women in sight. Usually I’m in the minority. I’m rarely the only one of my kind. Already I’m liking my odds.

I take another look at the men. They’re all in great shape. They’re all about my age.
And get this… I was actually noticed.

I’m gonna repeat that. Even though repeating seems silly in blog form because I could just ask you to re-read it. But instead I’m going to retype it. For dramatic emphasis.

I was actually noticed.

Magical instance #1: I was sitting on an ab machine. An anxious dude came up when I was done with a set and asked if he could sub out with me to use the machine at the same time between sets. Since he was nice about it (unlike the grandpa I’ve spoken about before), I allowed it.
After he was done with his set, he got up, wiped down the machine, and returned the weight to my weight.
You know what that means? He took note of my weight so he could return to so as not to inconvenience me any further than he was already doing.

Magical instance #2: I was doing squats (like a boss) and a man came up and asked me how many more sets I had. I told him one. He said, “Sure, no problem, sweetie.
He called me sweetie. Normally, I’d be annoyed. But this was an evening workout so I wasn’t sleepy and hungry like usual. Plus, he said “Thank you, sweetie” when I told him I was done.
I felt like a weight room Princess.

Magical instance #3: I was using the pulley machine to do an ab crunch. I asked a guy hovering near the machine if he was using it (because I’m not an asshole). He kinda mumbled something and started doing pullups right next to it. Unsure if that was a yes or no, I just looked around for a minute. A giant man doing the same exercise I wanted to do on the other machine right next to it, pointed to the other pulley thing and said, “I’m done using that. You can use it, honey.” That’s right. Another pet name.

I said thanks and started using the machine. After my first set, he put a mat right next to me. He had been using it for his knees during the same exercise. I hadn’t even though about that. I put it under my knees. It was luxurious. At this point, I felt like a queen.

While I can’t always make it to the gym on a late Friday night, I now know that if I’m ever going through another gym boyfriend slump, I know when and where to show up in order to be treated like a weight room Goddess.

Of course I never actually speak to any of those guys beyond quick interactions. That’d be too much. I adore from a distance. And I like it that way.

New Gym Boyfriend!?!??!

I need everyone to stay calm. This could be a passing fancy. But I’ve may have a new gym boyfriend.

It’s nothing official yet. It’s just… last week I went a little later than I normally do.  Though there were many people around, my gym boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. Probably already at his job saving lives. Because I imagine he’s in one of those life-saving professions.

So of course I just got in my zone and did my workout. I’m focusing on some new stuff, so I actually had to concentrate more than usual.

Then it happened.

I was doing squats on a squat rack and doing ab work on an incline bench in between my sets. And a guy came up and started using another squat rack near me. And my incline bench was kinda in his way. So I moved it so it would be more out of his way.

And a miracle.

He looked at me, smiled, and said “Thank you.”

So I smiled and looked down. The continued my workout.

The next day, he was in the weight room again. He was doing an exercise near me. We totally made eye contact. He had a glimmer of recognition in that fleeting moment of eye contact that made me realize he recognized me just like I recognized him.

Then! The next Saturday, I was at the gym again and this group of big dudes all hang together and gossip like school girls. And who hangs out with them? The same guy! And get this- he saw me again! We totally made legitimate eye contact.

Now… I don’t want to rush things. I know that relationships like this have to move slowly. And I know I’ve already made an intense emotional commitment to another man I’ve never spoken to at the gym.

But this guy actually makes eye contact with me. My other boyfriend never did that. He said something to me once. My other boyfriend never did that. He works out near me. I always had to creepily workout near my last boyfriend.

I’m not going to be hasty and just end things with my old gym boyfriend because some new guy spoke almost a full sentence to me. I’m not crazy.

Besides, the old gym has finally reopened and I’ll probably be headed back there in the mornings. So there’s a good chance I won’t see this new guy anyway. Plus he works out later in the day during a time I typically can’t get to. We have a lot of things working against us right now. I just don’t know if we’ll make it.

But maybe…just maybe… I’ll see my regular gym boyfriend at my regular gym at my regular time. Then on the weekends, I’ll run into my fling. That’s what I’ll call him. My gym fling.

A girl can only dream.

It’s healthy to date lots of people at once. It’s even more healthy to actually talk to them and have them know who you are. But one step at a time, people. One step at a time.

Switch Up

I got some advice from a hunky personal trainer the other day. He said that people in good shape (and I include myself in that because of my frequent gym sessions) should probably change up their routine every two weeks or so to keep their body growing and guessing. He asked me how long I’ve been doing my routines at the gym. I told him, “A while.”

The truth is, I’ve been doing them since friggin’ June or July.

To be fair, the exercising I’m doing are the classics. And there are some schools that think the classics really are all you need to improve your shape. And I’ve been going up in weight and adding moves here and there. And because of my schedule, I’m not always doing the everything every time I go.

But I’ve been basically doing the same thing. And I like it. But it’s definitely time to get creative and change things up.

So this week, I did just that. I found a workout routine on my “Workout Trainer” app called “Dedicated to Muscle.” It incorporates a lot of different great movements and weights in a different order.

And it was really challenging! And I was terrible at some of the movements! It turns out I can barely do a weighted single leg squat. I mean, like… barely. And there was this move called “Pistols”… let me tell you… I couldn’t do them like at all! I was terrible at them! I mean, terrible! The couple times I tried to do a full movement, I fell on my rump. The other times, when I tried to do less of a movement, my balance was completely off and I could barely do it. Plus, my gym boyfriend was working out right next to me, so it was even more embarrassing! (But maybe made him notice me which is actually a good thing…)

It was actually really exciting to be terrible at something again. You really do get so used to certain movements. Even if you add weight to those movements, your body is already good at them. Just by trying these other movements I have a very hard time with, I can feel muscles that haven’t been working getting a good workout. I can feel my body trying to learn this new stuff and growing. I know that it takes a bit by bit to get good at something, so I’m looking forward to a couple weeks from now when I can do a full “Pistol” and a full movement on weighted single leg squat.

And once I can do those, it’ll be time to change it up again.

Gotta keep the body guessing. Just like I keep men in my life guessing as to how I feel about them and which of my many multiple personalities might show up.

I wish I were joking about that last part.

Alas and alack.

Lady Douchebag

There’s a woman at my gym who frequents the weight room as much as I do. In fact, she’s there more often than I am. And she looks like it. She is IN SHAPE okay people? I mean… she’s strong and hella toned.

I’ve spoken with her once. It was Sunday. She came over and asked if she could use a Kettlebell I had hoarded in my little corner of the multi-purpose room. I didn’t actually have any plans for the Kettlebell, there was just the one so I wanted it. I liked people to think I know what I’m doing, even when I have no idea.

It’s how I’ve succeeded at life so far.

Anyway, she asked me to borrow it and I told her no problem. Then I thought maybe I’d misjudged her in the past. I’d always thought she was a lady douchebag because she grunts really loudly when she lifts weights. She doesn’t wear a shirt, just a very tight sports bra that barely holds in her enhanced lady parts. Her hair is always down while she works out. She obviously spends a lot of time outside the gym tanning. She has false eyelashes she either puts on before every gym session or has permanently attached to her lids. And – the biggest sin- is that she throws her weights after she’s done with a set. Total douchebag move.

Also keep in mind I’ve seen this woman for months. She was at my old gym and made the move as many of us (like my gym boyfriend) did when it went under construction.

In our one quick Kettlebell interaction, I’m thinking maybe I misjudged. Maybe she’s not a douchebag. Maybe I’m just jealous of her dedication to fitness which obviously surpasses mine. I decide to see what she’s going to do with the Kettlebell so I can learn from her. She can become my teacher rather than my adversary.

Guess what she does? She asks a hunky dude from the weight room to stop his set to come take a picture of her. Then she poses in various poses holding the Kettlebell. She makes him take a video and several pictures. He returns to the weight room. I’m standing three feet away (perfectly capable to take a picture) and she didn’t ask. On top of it, she didn’t really do any sets. She just took pictures of what it would look like if she were working out.

My assessment of Lady Douchebag stands.

Lady Douchebag

There’s a woman at my gym who frequents the weight room as much as I do. In fact, she’s there more often than I am. And she looks like it. She is IN SHAPE okay people? I mean… she’s strong and hella toned.

I’ve spoken with her once. It was Sunday. She came over and asked if she could use a Kettlebell I had hoarded in my little corner of the multi-purpose room. I didn’t actually have any plans for the Kettlebell, there was just the one so I wanted it. I liked people to think I know what I’m doing, even when I have no idea.

It’s how I’ve succeeded at life so far.

Anyway, she asked me to borrow it and I told her no problem. Then I thought maybe I’d misjudged her in the past. I’d always thought she was a lady douchebag because she grunts really loudly when she lifts weights. She doesn’t wear a shirt, just a very tight sports bra that barely holds in her enhanced lady parts. Her hair is always down while she works out. She obviously spends a lot of time outside the gym tanning. She has false eyelashes she either puts on before every gym session or has permanently attached to her lids. And – the biggest sin- is that she throws her weights after she’s done with a set. Total douchebag move.

Also keep in mind I’ve seen this woman for months. She was at my old gym and made the move as many of us (like my gym boyfriend) did when it went under construction.

In our one quick Kettlebell interaction, I’m thinking maybe I misjudged. Maybe she’s not a douchebag. Maybe I’m just jealous of her dedication to fitness which obviously surpasses mine. I decide to see what she’s going to do with the Kettlebell so I can learn from her. She can become my teacher rather than my adversary.

Guess what she does? She asks a hunky dude from the weight room to stop his set to come take a picture of her. Then she poses in various poses holding the Kettlebell. She makes him take a video and several pictures. He returns to the weight room. I’m standing three feet away (perfectly capable to take a picture) and she didn’t ask. On top of it, she didn’t really do any sets. She just took pictures of what it would look like if she were working out.

My assessment of Lady Douchebag stands.

Lady Douchebag

There’s a woman at my gym who frequents the weight room as much as I do. In fact, she’s there more often than I am. And she looks like it. She is IN SHAPE okay people? I mean… she’s strong and hella toned.

I’ve spoken with her once. It was Sunday. She came over and asked if she could use a Kettlebell I had hoarded in my little corner of the multi-purpose room. I didn’t actually have any plans for the Kettlebell, there was just the one so I wanted it. I liked people to think I know what I’m doing, even when I have no idea.

It’s how I’ve succeeded at life so far.

Anyway, she asked me to borrow it and I told her no problem. Then I thought maybe I’d misjudged her in the past. I’d always thought she was a lady douchebag because she grunts really loudly when she lifts weights. She doesn’t wear a shirt, just a very tight sports bra that barely holds in her enhanced lady parts. Her hair is always down while she works out. She obviously spends a lot of time outside the gym tanning. She has false eyelashes she either puts on before every gym session or has permanently attached to her lids. And – the biggest sin- is that she throws her weights after she’s done with a set. Total douchebag move.

Also keep in mind I’ve seen this woman for months. She was at my old gym and made the move as many of us (like my gym boyfriend) did when it went under construction.

In our one quick Kettlebell interaction, I’m thinking maybe I misjudged. Maybe she’s not a douchebag. Maybe I’m just jealous of her dedication to fitness which obviously surpasses mine. I decide to see what she’s going to do with the Kettlebell so I can learn from her. She can become my teacher rather than my adversary.

Guess what she does? She asks a hunky dude from the weight room to stop his set to come take a picture of her. Then she poses in various poses holding the Kettlebell. She makes him take a video and several pictures. He returns to the weight room. I’m standing three feet away (perfectly capable to take a picture) and she didn’t ask. On top of it, she didn’t really do any sets. She just took pictures of what it would look like if she were working out.

My assessment of Lady Douchebag stands.

Lady Douchebag

There’s a woman at my gym who frequents the weight room as much as I do. In fact, she’s there more often than I am. And she looks like it. She is IN SHAPE okay people? I mean… she’s strong and hella toned.

I’ve spoken with her once. It was Sunday. She came over and asked if she could use a Kettlebell I had hoarded in my little corner of the multi-purpose room. I didn’t actually have any plans for the Kettlebell, there was just the one so I wanted it. I liked people to think I know what I’m doing, even when I have no idea.

It’s how I’ve succeeded at life so far.

Anyway, she asked me to borrow it and I told her no problem. Then I thought maybe I’d misjudged her in the past. I’d always thought she was a lady douchebag because she grunts really loudly when she lifts weights. She doesn’t wear a shirt, just a very tight sports bra that barely holds in her enhanced lady parts. Her hair is always down while she works out. She obviously spends a lot of time outside the gym tanning. She has false eyelashes she either puts on before every gym session or has permanently attached to her lids. And – the biggest sin- is that she throws her weights after she’s done with a set. Total douchebag move.

Also keep in mind I’ve seen this woman for months. She was at my old gym and made the move as many of us (like my gym boyfriend) did when it went under construction.

In our one quick Kettlebell interaction, I’m thinking maybe I misjudged. Maybe she’s not a douchebag. Maybe I’m just jealous of her dedication to fitness which obviously surpasses mine. I decide to see what she’s going to do with the Kettlebell so I can learn from her. She can become my teacher rather than my adversary.

Guess what she does? She asks a hunky dude from the weight room to stop his set to come take a picture of her. Then she poses in various poses holding the Kettlebell. She makes him take a video and several pictures. He returns to the weight room. I’m standing three feet away (perfectly capable to take a picture) and she didn’t ask. On top of it, she didn’t really do any sets. She just took pictures of what it would look like if she were working out.

My assessment of Lady Douchebag stands.

Who’s That Lady?

I was in the weight room the other day when a woman wearing a neon yellow bra and tight Lulu Lemon stretch pants with a splash of color on top and nothing else walked by. She had killer abs and was one of those people who clearly took time to do her hair and makeup before going to the gym.

And I watched as every man in the weight room’s eyes slowly followed her as she walked by. And she walked slowly for their eyes to follow. And it was hilarious.

For a moment, I was the only one still lifting in the weight room.

So I took advantage of it and snagged one of the precious few flat benches available.

Thank you, lady, for being so hilariously distracting. And thank you, men, for being so predictable.