The cupcake solution

I've been in a really bad mood for the last 10 days. There's been some variety in my mood mind you. You know, those subtle shades between sad, surly, angry, woeful, indignant and overwrought. Sigh.

I'm actually feeling a little better today. It may have been the good sleep I had last night or doing pilates three days in a row. I like to think it's the 13 cupcakes I've consumed in the last 48 hours. Yup I've now eaten a baker's dozen of cupcakes.

And you know what? I feel mostly okay with that (mostly because I think the refined sugar has started to eat through my stomach lining). I baked them, I decorated them with sprinkles and I've enjoyed them. I needed to do something nice for myself and each of those 13 cupcakes have helped me in my quest to not anger and alienate my loved ones as I ride this regrettable emotional roller coaster.

This is not a sustainable coping strategy. Continuous cupcake consumption could become a very maladaptive behaviour, but it did its job when I needed it to. I will continue to search for a way out of this mood and continue to feel okay with eating 13 cupcakes. Yep, I'll feel great with every step I take as I run off half a cake this week. So good indeed.

HRH

Na na na na na na na na

Any sensible person whose joints are in a generally bad way would live their life according to their limitations. Let's be frank, it's not like your joints actually get better as you age. With this knowledge in hand, I may be close to admitting that nine hours of dance and pilates a week may be too much. The trouble is, torturous as some of it is, it's also really, really fun.

Is it right that I come home from the gym each night and promptly put my knees on ice? Or that I'm wearing wrist supports almost daily? Or that the only way I can talk about how much my ass hurts from squats and legs lifts is to change the words to Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb to "I have an uncomfortable bum?"

I know there will come a point where my body will intervene and tell me that I'm getting too old for this kind of thing. When my knees will finally blow out, my back will seize for days at a time and I will have to admit that there is a disparity between what I see myself being able to do in my head and what is possible within the laws of physics.

Until that point, I'm covering my ears and not listening. Fill the freezer full of ice, help my stretch out my hamstrings and keep the Advil handy.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Uncomfortable Bum" By Pink Floyd/Chelsea

HRH

It sounds grosser than it is

So I made it in for physio today. The whole getting hurt and not getting treatment for months and having to have a absurdly large physiotherapist with biceps bigger than my head work out the scar tissue BY HAND taught me to get treatment for back injuries right away.

So I did good and I know what's wrong. I have a bulged disc in my lower back. I asked my new physiotherapist (cause my old one moved away) if that was anything like a slipped disc and I was informed that it's just different terminology that sounds less scary. I agree. I mean bulge isn't a pretty word or reality, but in terms of really important and permanent things like my spine, it seems like something more repairable than a slip.

The strange thing about my back injury is that it actually feels better the more I move. Everyone thought I was bonkers going to my Hip-hop class on Monday night, but honestly it was the best my back had felt since Saturday afternoon. I told my physiotherapist this and she said it was actually a good sign and that I should stay active but maybe not go rowing or try to climb a mountain. And that suits me just fine.

The best news of all is that I should be back to full working order in a few days. The moral of this story is, if you're going to do two dance classes and pilates in less than 24 hours, make sure your pilates instructor stretches you out before you leave.

Wisdom for the ages right there.

HRH

You have to crawl before you can walk

Before you read this post, try to get up from your chair. Or even better, try to do a squat. What muscles did you use? Your quads, your glutes, combo of the two? Think about it for a second.

I had a fitness assessment last night, and the results were actually very good. My BMI is good, my body fat is good, my weight is good, heart rate, all good. I was thinking I was ready to learn about how to increase my muscle mass (I'm hoping to lose six pounds of fat and trade that for six pounds of muscle in time), and then the trainer had me do some push ups.

Before anyone hauls out trainer conspiracies and personal training session pitches, he's very well qualified and he very effectively illustrated what is wrong and what needs to be changed.

So if I'm in as good shape as I seem to be, what would I need to do to improve? Let's go back to that getting up/squatting thing. When I do those motions, even when I walk or climb stairs, I am only using my quads and some muscles in my hips. Those huge glute muscles that are there to provide the strength you need for walking, squatting, an other good things, well they're doing pretty much nothing on me. Like nothing. They just sit there and wait with open arms for the sagginess of my age-related metabolic decline.

The trainer asked me to try standing up using my glutes and I couldn't do it. It wasn't like I didn't have the strength. There was just no ability to do it. It was like my brain sent a message to my central nervous system and all that was there was an Error 404 message. It feels a lot like it feels when I try to wink with my left eye. I can't do that either.

And what's worse is that the way I move now actually makes my knees worse and is causing my hip muscles to become over developed. Meaning I'm actually making my hips bigger because of the way that I walk.

So I'm hurting myself by doing this. He pressed down on the leg and hip muscles that were over-developed and I was actually yelping in pain. I'm pretty sure this man could have killed me with his thumb judging by his ability to find my weakest spots. Then he got me to stand up and posed me in a position where I was actually standing up properly, but because my glutes are so weak I almost fell flat on my face.

So how did I learn all this fundamental walking, standing up, sitting down stuff wrong? One theory is that because I didn't crawl as a baby that I didn't learn to use my butt muscles for that kind of movement. I just sat there for 13 months and then decided to stand up and walk one day.

As I grew and my knees got bad, I would try to walk in a way that would make them as quiet as possible. I also try to walk as lightly as I can. I basically walk on my toes all the time as I don't want to make a lot of noise. So that didn't help either.

I have been told that teaching my glutes to do the work will actually improve the condition of my knees and anything I can do to improve that while staving off orthopedic surgery is a totally worth a try. Also once my hip muscles aren't having to compensate so much, they'll stop that particular outward expansion and maybe I'll be able to fit back into my first pair of sevens, since they fit everywhere except for the hips and quads.

So 29 years after learning how to walk, I need to learn how to do it again. Which is kind of amusing in it's own way. Hopefully there will be less falling over this time around.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Walk the line" by Johnny Cash

HRH

Pushing my luck

It seems I'm doing that fixating thing again. This time it's the new Rihanna song "Umbrella." I hadn't noticed that I've been listening to it non-stop until the video came on TV and M said we'd heard way too much of that song in the last four days and changed the channel. I couldn't bring myself to protest as it would require admitting that I wanted to watch the video to admire Rihanna's new hipster haircut.

Other than overplaying a new song, the long weekend was very full. WE had a lovely dinner with Graeme and Elisabeth on Friday (check out Graeme's blog as it is brimming with nifty) and learned that there are few people in the world who can actually eat a steak almost the size of their own head. I planted my patio garden on Saturday with Gerber Daisies, Dahlias, Wave Petunias and peppers galore. I am pretty much ready train Zeus to kill squirrels now as all the bird feeder traffic is making the containers all to tempting. I also made a screen for the kitchen window and we had the gang over for some lamb goodness.

Saturday was extra fun when M mistook his finger for an onion resulting in some extreme makeover: finger edition. He just took a little off the top of his left index finger, and it's healing nicely, but it was still kind of freaky. I'm not allowed to talk about what the removed bit of fingertip looks like cause it makes people queasy. I can only say I found it fascinating and maybe I should stop watching CSI.

Sunday was far less dramatic. I worked out at my new gym (lovely treadmills) and finally made it to see Hot Fuzz and laughed myself silly. Excellently good times.

Today was more sedate. Laundry, bird watching (I saw an Indigo Bunting and caught a glimpse of a Baltimore Oriole... and holy crap when did I start to find this stuff interesting?) and naps. Many naps. I'm capping off the holiday weekend with the 24 and Heroes finales tonight.

The only thing that would make this weekend more perfect would be if it was somehow extended for just another day, oh and if M had that little bit of his fingertip back.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Umbrella" by Rihanna & Jay Z

HRH

In the market for a yoga mat

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but I joined a second gym on Sunday. The very same gym that my husband goes to. It's very close to home and they have shiny new equipment, not to mention amazingly good pricing. I'm still staying on at my gym downtown as it is crazy convenient after work and having two workout buddies could mean that I will work out more, which means I can eat more and really, that's all we're working for here people.

Aside from the shiny new equipment, this new gym also has yoga classes. I've never really done much yoga, though my sister swears by it. It's just been a little too touchy-feel-y bull-crap for my taste. Still I'm always trying to do new things and keep an open mind. I guess there's nothing wrong with becoming strong and flexible, but if anyone starts talking to me about my chakra or massaging my internal organs I may have to smother myself with my yoga mat.

HRH

A series of good starts

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that as time passes I keep growing up. It just some days, the growth doesn't seem gradual, it's shocking and apparent. Take this past Friday. I started my first RRSP. Admittedly, this is something I've been intending to do for about eight years but I always talked myself out of doing it. I find all things banking and finance intimidating, but I also have to do all things on my own terms. Sure it may have been more prudent to get it all sorted sooner, but I've done it my way, which means a lot to me. So I'm saving for my future, saving for a house one day, feeling pretty in control of things.

And I'm not the only one in our house experiencing new things. M has started running with me. For those who don't know my husband well, he is one of those loathable people who can eat anything and everything and not gain weight. He just has that kind of metabolism. I just don't. I have to exercise at least 3 times a week and keep the dietary cheating to a minimum just to save off the fatness. I'm supposed to be losing weight right now and just can't stop eating everything I shouldn't be.

While he has the ability to burn calories by thinking big thoughts, I can walk up a flight of stairs and not get winded. And it's one thing to look healthy and an entirely other thing to be healthy. So I was very happy when M took me up on my long standing offer to exercise with him. Just because he hasn't had to exercise, it doesn't mean that he hasn't wanted to, on some level. We started yesterday by doing some running in intervals in the park. He did pretty well except for calling me a "sadist" at one point. Even more impressive than his first effort is the fact that he's going to let me take him out running again!

In the course of two days we've become a married couple that jogs together and has retirement savings. I feel like I should do something reckless and immature just to keep everything in check.

Today's sing-a-long song: "All grown up" by Elvis Costello

HRH

The perils of goal setting

Once again my enthusiasm for achievement has bit me in the ass. Okay, not in the ass exactly, but more the arm and the wrist. It was kind of like a double biting snake attack, but a metaphor.

I started out the week with my grand plan to be able to lift cement trucks and jump buildings in a single bound by September. Here we are on Friday and my left wrist is in a tensor bandage and it's still hurting me to lift my arms above my head. Not that I'm letting that slow me down. Two days of cardio and weights, one day of dance, one day of rest. Maybe I will let reason prevail and not work out tonight.

One day they will invent endorphins that make you feel good while exercising, but not invincible.

HRH

Raising the bar

At the gym today I was overcome by a spell of ambition. The probability of wearing a strapless bridesmaids dress increased a great deal this weekend. As such I determined that the state of my arms and shoulders just is not going to do. I still run a few times a week and I'm pretty dedicated to my abdominal workouts, but I have let my work on my arms slide dramatically. I don't really want to have to hold my arms in that "I totally havent' done any arm work, so I'm just going to hold out my arms in an unnatural way" pose for an entire day.

After my run and my ab workout I gathered up my courage and made conversation with the group of guys at the gym who seem to dedicate their workouts to their arms and backs. They're nice guys, not your typical gym jerks, but kind of intimidating because they have arms the size of my thighs. One of them was doing chin ups and I commented that if they wanted a good laugh they should see me try to do one. Remember that one time I was trying to do a chin up in the park and an older women riding a bicycle laughed out loud at my feeble attempts as she passed by.

So, I anted up to the bar and tried to hoist myself up. I managed about a centimetre of height and was pretty much just stuck there, flailing, hearing the woman's laughing echoing in my head. I was trying really hard though and one guy actually grabbed me by the rib cage and hoisted me up so that my chin was level with the bar. He let go and then I managed to hold myself there for a couple of moments, laughing. Partly out of embarassment that I needed to be helped up, partly because it was actually pretty neat to be at that point of a pull up (as I'd never been there before) and partly out of the fact that when you're the size that I am, you're not used to people lifting you. It kind of freaks me out and makes me heart pound in an unhappy way. I always figure that laughing sounds better than screaming.

Once I let myself down the large armed people showed me a bunch of exercises I can do to develop the strength I will need in my arms and back to be able to pull myself up. My gym is part of a hospital, so most of the people using it are involved in medicine somehow. My lesson in upper body development also turned into a lesson in physiology where I learned what parts of my arms and back are responsible for the various parts of the pull up.

Some of the exercises I couldn't do and they told me that actually most people can't do them, as they're really hard, but if I keep trying to do them, I'll be strong soon. I had some respectable first attempts mind you, but I'm just not strong.

You all know that I love plans. As such I have a new one. My plan is to be able to do a pull up by September. M thinks that I'm going to have to develop really big arms muscles for this. But I honestly can't see my arms being anything but chicken flabby. Guess we'll see in September.

HRH