Enough

I have been going to the gym for forty-four consecutive days, tomorrow will make forty-five. Yesterday I'm limping around with a painful right thigh and a left knee that's toying with the idea of blowing out, or it feels that way.

Am I a drama queen or nearing burnout? Be nice! I know a little bit about burnout, you wouldn't know it to look at me but I was a bit of a distance runner in high-school, during cross-country season I was doing about seven miles a night except the day before the race. One day something snapped in my psyche and that was that. I just quit, end of story.

I can see by the wall of blank faces that you're not getting me, let's try it this way. Back in my youth my parents decided to go to Africa leaving me and my little sister (waves to sis, hi!) with 'Mrs. Binder.' Well I think it's fair to say that Mrs. Binder wasn't really into minding the store, she was in bed by eight or so.

What's a poor boy to do?

Well this boy took an empty seven up can and headed to the liquor cabinet. Unable to make up my mind I proceed to dump a little tequila, a little rum, a bit of whiskey, a dash of vodka and A LOT of gin, my little sips on the bottles convincing me gin was yummy, into the can until it was about three-fourths full.

My mind, it just never stops, truly.

I pinched my nose and downed the entire contents. Needless to say it was a rough night, needless to say Mrs. Binder was clueless, needless to say I can't drink gin to this day without some sort of involuntary gag reflex. My body hates gin at the cellular level. NOW do you follow me?

Thought so. Most of us have our own version of a Mrs. Binder story.

So, drama queen pansy or red-lined soon to be burn out? I don't know and that's what's annoying me at the moment. However the alarm clock went off this morning for the first time in a long time causing me to make the following announcement.

I'm canceling the month of Push It. It's now the month of Poke It With a Stick. I apologize, I can't do it, not yet, I'm dialing it back a bit. If I cross that burn-out line I wont be back and everyone tells me to listen to your body but come on I'm a middle aged white male! We're genetically incapable of listening to our bodies, we can only listen to um one part of our body, and at my age there's this constant ache pretty much everywhere in general. Most of it's noise.

Enough whining. You! Yessss youuuuuu, hand me the tweezers, Phillips-head screwdriver and a bottle of Aleve! I'm defusing this burnout bomb RIGHT NOW!!!

While I work on this ticking bomb here I might as well tell you what went on in the gym today. It was a tempo workout and since I was not happy that my muscles complained at all on my two-mile Tour-de-Neighborhood last Sunday I decided to do the recombinant for 50mins, apparently my bike muscles need work.

I'm struggling but get to an average bpm of 136 which is 72% based off the Bill/Trainer MaxHR Compromise of Feb 2009. I should probably tell her she agreed to the compromise, huh? and have her sign the paperwork.

While this is going on the trainer is dragging FNG around going through his routine. Some of the things she has me do he does too and I immediately see that I've been doing them wrong so this little refresher in proper form was good. He then gets to do a bunch of advanced stuff that maybe one day I'll get to try.

OH! OH! I almost forgot to tell you! I come into the gym dragging my bad mood storm cloud behind me and the early risers were in there lifting trucks and whatnot and they both talk to me. I'm gonna have to name them, I'm also gonna have to introduce myself. How cool is that?! We're clowning around and one of the early risers is doing this weird exercise that strengthens some arm muscle, and its not weird really but watching those two from the safety of my bicycle is very instructive. Oh you use the machine for that! And that too?! Wow, who knew? It's fun as hell just to watch the pros at times.

I wrap up on the bike and I'm wondering if I want to do abs or not. I'm thinking I should but I feel so far behind... I get more water and head out of the locker room looking for a ball. Screw it. I'll try and gut it out with the abs thing.

I can't really tell you a lot about abs except I couldn't do much of it. I came in a few minutes late and the trainer is already doing pelvic tilts. Drat! I can do those! I flop down and start. At one point I remember laying on my back with this ball clenched in my legs and the trainer saying, "Now lift your tailbone off the ground. If you can't do that put your hands at your side to help you lift your tailbone off the ground."

What if you still can't do that?! Well I solved that problem by reaching up, grabbing my knees and pulling my stupid fat tailbone off the ground. It was the only way.

I'm sideways to the trainer, so I can see what she wants me to attempt. I'm feeling pretty darned exhausted and discouraged and she's saying things like, "You can do it!" I figure she can't be talking to me because I don't have a prayer of doing it.

What's a poor boy to do?

Well I haven't found the liquor cabinet yet - so I'm giving thought to that, what to do? I can quit the abs... or not.

I'll think about it tomorrow, no reason to make any decisions yet.

Have a great day!