In order to give myself some guidelines for this little project, I'm following a Self Magazine training plan that tells people (presumably women) how to train for a 5k, 10k, half-marathon. (Should I link it? Obviously, doing so is more informative, but I feel like it just takes away some of the mystery). Anyway, I really don't have any intentions of race running, but since running seems cheap and efficient (which, trust me, I love), I thought I might try learning how to do so. So, day one.
The Goal: Strength Training.
This is classified as yoga, Pilates or toning exercises. The little chart doesn't actually indicate how long one is supposed to "strength train for." I figured I'd do it until I was cursing a blue streak.
The Reality:
Money is tight right now, so I didn't want to shell out for a yoga class. So I hit up Netflix to see what instructional videos I could find. And while there are several I'm sure are greatly helpful, the most interesting one was titled "Hot Male Yoga."
Yes, that's correct. "Hot. Male. Yoga." It features three chiseled and shiny young stallions doing rather poor yoga on a mountaintop clad in shiny white thongs. So basically, yoga porn. I spent about four minutes watching this, staring directly at their groins, because it's physically impossible not to stare at a man's groin when he's wearing Spandex, had a few good laughs and turned it off.
After that, I wasn't really in the mood to entertain another fitness video. And let me be blunt: As much as I can appreciate the stretching aspect of yoga, some days I'm not in the mood to be told to "salute the sun" or be a warrior woman. There are times when I can be all about the namaste. Other times, I just think it's a little fruity.
So instead, I popped in the Ally McBeal DVD (episodes with Matthew Perry - so cute) that arrived in the mail today and got to work with my little 5 lb weights. They're purple and girly, if that makes a difference to anyone. I'm not really sure of the names of the exercises I did. There were four different ones that worked the various muscles in my arms (and by "worked" I mean "made them hurt). Then there were some lunges and squat-type things as well. In the parlance of the twinkies, I believe one would say I did two "sets" of ten "reps" each. Or maybe it was three sets. I don't remember. I do know that toward the end, I was taking the name of both the Lord and everyone's mother in vain, so I figure I was being somewhat effective.
Once the weights were put aside, I went to some stretching. As a former gymnast, I'd like to state for the record that my flexibility is abominable, and there are probably 90-year-old women more flexible than I. It's humiliating, even in the privacy of my own home. After that, leg lifts (30 on each leg, the last 8 of which were floppy and wholly ungraceful); girly pushups (20, because that was all I could do); vulgar-looking exercises that involve the raising and lowering of the pelvis while ass-squeezing; and finally, painful abdominal exercises, which consist of raising and lowering both legs toward the ceiling 25 times. It also involved, once again, copious amounts of swearing.
As an encore, shall we say, I attempted to sit in a cross-legged position and breathe in a deep, cleansing manner for five minutes. Today, however, is one of those days I find things like deep, cleansing breathing to be on the fruity side, so I stopped after two minutes.
The Results:
Well, I feel kind of sore all over. Also, I don't think Hot Male Yoga was intended for my demographic. There's just something a little homoerotic about three shiny thong-clad men on a velvet blanket on a mountaintop.
Today's Suck (I was going to say "setback" or "room for improvement," but juxtaposing "suck" and "success" is so much better than whatever self-help book bullshit language one can use to say "today's little fuck up"):
Peanut M&M's. Vending machine. I usually only eat peanut M&M's on trains. It's a strange little quirk I have. For some reason I was inclined toward a bag today. And I ate the whole thing. Plus chocolate covered sunflower seeds as well. What did I tell you? I like chocolate. But the key is moderation. Oh, and I'm totally eating a Weight Watchers Ice Cream bar tonight. No question there. That's not really a suck. Three points! And they taste like Snickers Ice Cream Bars. But I guess I should get back on the point counting bandwagon. We'll see how that one goes.
Today's Success (saving the best for last, kumbaya):
I'm sure I didn't do exactly what the Self editors were thinking about, or what you Twinkies (did you know that's not a word unless it's used as a proper noun? Go Hostess.) might consider strength training, but hey, I was doing weight and stretching type crap for 29 whole minutes, so I think that's pretty damn good for day one.
Oh, also, I'm going to make vegetable soup tonight. Like now. I'm getting hungry.
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