It’s been a while since I shared stories from the gym, mainly because I haven’t been there. There. I said it, it. The sweet, sweet song of false success was strong and I had convinced myself that not being out of breath during storytime was akin to being in shape.
Anywho, back to the gym I went because the light sheen that appeared on my face, the one that I kept convincing myself was a glow and not really a cry for help, has returned with a vengeance and there is nothing cool about a slick and slimy Miss Rachee.
So back to the gym I go to get my huff on, redefine those muscles and collect more purple pens.
Observations from the gym:
Muscles itch as they heal
I’ve been pushing myself and doing a little more weight wise and the protest from my body is in the form of sore muscles. As they heal I’ve noticed that my hamstring muscles itch, my triceps itch, my butt itches.
Have you tried to surreptitiously scratch an itch only to have someone catch you in what seems to be a rude position? Oh, neither have I.
While working out no one may care about your breathing but they sure will care if you shout, “Sweet Baby Jesus!” really loudly. It will not matter that you have run 12 minutes straight and this is a personal best and you are feeling really good about that. It will not matter that you are trying to gasp and gulp for sweet Oxygen. It will not matter that you pushed yourself farther than you ever ran. Shouting is kinds of frowned upon and much side-eye will be given.
Working out with weights.
I’ve started seriously adding weights to my routine and find myself in the weight area. People, MEN, are very territorial about their weights. Before y’all start jumping on me about not all men being territorial let me cut that off with IN MY EXPERIENCE at the gym men don’t seem to think my little 15 pound reps are worthy of being in the same space as their 45 pound and more reps.
Nuts to that.
People still violate the treadmill rule. I’m talking to you dude who used the treadmill next to mine when three others were available. I would not normally complain (yes I would) but this particular dude was just as loud as me with his “Oh Jesus!” and “Oh Gods!” There is only room for one drama queen at the gym.
The best songs to listen to while working out:
Locked Out Of Heaven by Bruno Mars. Cause if Rapture comes I’m not in enough shape to outrun the four horseman.
Mississippi Goddamn by Nina Simone. Really it’s Track G*ddamn and a whole host of other things that make me want to cuss and fuss.
Blurred Lines [feat. T.I., Pharrell] by Robin Thicke. In spite of that utterly ridiculous video this is my favorite to push through. Oh, yes…people around you may not want to hear you holler, “You’re the hottest CHICK (lyrics changed) in this place”
I hate calling it that but when in Rome…
It’s kind of like proof that I went to the gym (Twitter cares) or because I have been looking smokin’ hot after I run. That one.
I leave you with a small gallery of moi.
What’s your workout looking like? Motivated to move?