I started this 90 day challenge. And I WILL FINISH IT! DAMN it’s hard!
Here’s my week, with other “stuff” thrown in:
Monday: I awoke at 04:30 and began my “spit test” as I call it. It was actually the Stress and Resilliance test. It’s supposed to measure one’s cortisol levels at different points in the day. I had to fill a 5cc container with saliva without having drank anything for 2 hours. Yeah, THAT was fun! It took me 45 minutes. AND I must tell you that each time you open the lid, you get the opportunity to smell your own spit. I work in a hospital, and I have to say that this ranked right up there with the patient that had dripping vaginal boils. Smelling your own morning after the night before spit is just revolting. After all that I FINALLY got my cup O’ Joe!
Then I took my husband back to the Orthopedist (he had surgery LAST Wed.) because his cast became too tight. Then off to the Nazi Hell Hole to work.
Tuesday: Up at 04:00 to be at the gym by 5:30 for the weigh in/body composition and “nutrition” seminar. More about that at the end of the “week”. Then my first training session with my trainer Thomas, after I ran a couple miles.
I kept telling him “We gotta go heavier!” I think he’s afraid I’ll break or something. I’ll admit it, I was a little sore the next day, so it was a good workout!
Wednesday: Another early morning! I met with the Registered Dietician A.M.S. (I didn’t get her permission to use her name, and being that it’s a unique spelling, I decided to avoid it.) We went over the typical “What, when, why and how much do you eat?” routine.
I’m a little concerned because she alluded to having an eating disorder, at least in the past. It’s kind of like when I met with a therapist for my problem of eating too much too often. The therapist kept picking at her arms and scratching incessantly. I left, figuring she had more problems than I did.
Okay, back to the Dietician: So, in the hour I spent with her she convinced me that I should be taking an adrenal supplement. Made sense. I bought it. It’s all herb/plant based. I took it.
I got to work and thought I was going to fall asleep. PLUS I was incredibly depressed. I mean, it could have been due to the lack of sleep so far this week. AGAIN, back to the Dietician. The biggest issue with the Dietician is that she didn’t give me any idea of what, when, how much to eat with the exception of “Don’t eat more than 1/2 cup of berries for your fruit. Only one serving. Replace your carbs with good fats. And take the multiple vitamins we recommended.” I decided to look up the herbs/roots/wood in the supplement. After reading several sites I came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to take it being that I take a statin for my cholesterol and the main ingredient works to detoxify the liver. Statins work through your liver….. not a good combo.
Thursday: Another fasting morning. But at least I got to sleep a little later. I am back at the gym for my “Health assessment”. A finger stick, blood pressure, flexibility, “walking fit test” and “how many push ups in a minute” deal.
So, the finger stick STILL hurts! They did an orthostatic assessment of my blood pressure, which apparently I failed. (mine went DOWN when going from sitting to standing), but in my defense, what the fuck do you think will happen when your starving me, making me fast and dehydrating me?
Then came the flexibility. Sitting on the floor reaching beyond your toes as far as possible WITHOUT a warm up. I’m fifty fucking four years old. I did okay though.
Then on to the “girlie” push ups. You know, the ones on your knees. I did 24 in 60 seconds. I’M FIFTY FUCKING FOUR YEARS OLD. I was “average”. AVERAGE FOR WHAT?
The “fit test” was five minutes walking briskly at an incline. My heart rate made it all the way to 114. Come on. I’ve been training cyclicly for Ironman distance triathlon for the last 6 years.
I FINALLY get to have a protein drink that I bought downstairs at Life Cafe, made with “berries” and protein powder. $6.95. THEN I get to go work out with Thomas.
We did lower body. We started with squats and walking lunges. I said “Ya’ know, I usually do these with weights, and I usually am doing bicep curls while doing the lunges.” He finally brought me some weights. Then on to the hamstring curl. Unilateral times 3 sets. In between those he threw in some dead lifts. He hands me about a 5 pound medicine ball. I said “We need to go a lot heavier than that.” He brings me back a 15 pound weight. I said “I typically do single leg Romanian Dead lifts with 15 pounds in each hand.” He brings me back a 40 pound weight. “NOW WE’RE TALKIN!” I finish 3 sets of each and then move to the seated quad machine. He sets it up for 10 pounds. I’m thinking “Sheesh, this guy thinks I’m a total gray geezer!” After 10 single leg curls I wanted to cry. But I remained focused and stoic. On the second set, at 15 reps he puts his own body weight on the part of the machine resting on my shin. “Don’t let me push down.” This takes up the last 5 reps. We do this on the opposite leg. Then begin the next set with the same ending. He’s finally “getting” it. YAY!
Friday: I’m a little sore when I get up. Not bad. I get to work, and after all of the protein drinks, water and coffee I’m due for a bathroom break. Damn, when did the toilet get so low? I don’t “sit” on the toilet. I sort of “land” on the toilet. I feel as though I ran a marathon yesterday. My quad’s feel like they are on a steady diet of “Taser”! I try not to look like “dawn of the dead” when I walk down the halls.
I email my friend Kat and say I will join the group for a run on Saturday. They meet at 05:30.
I text her at 03:00 that I will NOT be joining them. I can barely make it to the bathroom without whimpering.
Saturday: I sleep in. I get out of bed and don’t feel too bad. I make some coffee. I sit on the couch. “When did the couch get so low?” I wonder. I think that I will “spin” a bit on the bike trainer and try and flush out some of the lactic acid that has found a home in my legs.
My husband mentions that he wants to go with me to take the dog (The Pug Star) to the groomer. Okay.
Here’s the way it went down: I get the Pug’s leash. She goes CRAZY. She goes in her “house”. I coax her out so I can get her collar and leash on her. I have to get her “house” un wedged so I can close the door. I go out to the car and open the passenger door. I put her and her “house” in the front seat. I open the windows and close the door. Other wise she will be doing a face plant when the dog crate falls out of the car due to her shenanigans!
I open the passenger rear door so my husband can scoot himself along the back seat so he can keep his ankle and foot elevated.
My husband rides his knee scooter to the kitchen door. The kitchen door has an automatic closer on it. I have to put a door stop in place so it stays open as he does a “nose dive” off the threshold into the garage. It always makes me nervous. He maneuvers himself and the knee scooter into place. He gets into the backseat. I fold the scooter and put it in the back of the SUV. I finally get in the drivers seat. Open the garage door and we’re off.
I FINALLY find a “handicapped” space. The Orthopedist okayed a handicap placard, and I am ever grateful!
I DID get in 45 minutes on the bike to try and get the lactic acid wrung out of my legs!
Sunday: My BRFF and I finally got our schedules straight and went out for a run today. Of course, living in the desert we have to start before the sun wakes up!
Before the “Heat Lamp” gets turned on.
A beautiful sunrise along the canal