Medicine Ball Of Death

It’s no joke that my anger goes into overdrive when my trainer says, ‘Warm up and I’ll meet you on the green!’.

The green is the area of the weight room that has the plyo box.  Enough said.  No, but it also has the sled, the battle ropes, hand weights, and kettle bells, amongst other things that are trying to murder me.   We call it the green because the ground looks like it’s fake grass.  It’s honestly my personal hell.

I absolutely, 100%, HATE when he tells me to ‘meet him on the green’.  It has come to my realization that I hate it because I know I am weak when I work out over there.  I know that I lose my breath faster, and my throat starts to burn worse, and I am just plain old fucking miserable, when I’m there.  I am much more comfortable and accustomed to working out on the weight machines.  I guess that’s why he makes me work out on the green.  He knows I need to challenge myself.  He’s doing for me.  But… really?  Fuck that business.

Anyways, it’s upper body murder day, and I am on ‘the green’.  It’s the end of my work out, and I have already spent the better part of my 30 minutes pushing my arms and shoulders to their limits.  I have lifted weights in all sorts of ways, and I have done a pretty good job of NOT complaining, the whole time.  In fact, I barely complained when I hurt.  I pushed through it.  I have goals, dammit.  I’m not going to get there by whining.

That thought process quickly went out the window when I saw that he had the Medicine Ball Of Death in his hands, on ‘the green’.  It was the last part of my work out.  I would be doing three sets each, of four different movements.  Ten reps of lifting my arms over my head with 15 pound weights in each hand.  Five reps of lifting the same weights like a bird flapping it’s wings (that’s the actual technical term for this move, I’m pretty sure). Ten push ups (because he’s an asshole).  And finally, ten catches of the medicine ball, then lifting it over my head, and slamming it to the ground.  I make it through the first set of the first three movements, and then I struggle my ass off with the medicine ball.  Like, between each and every lift and slam, I am dying.  My arms hurt.  I have sweat in my eyes.  I am weak.  I am tired.  …and apparently, I’m making those oh so famous, Dumb Workout Faces.

He couldn’t stop laughing at me.  Very single catch of that ball, and grunt when I tried to lift it, and apparent face I made- he laughed.

I made it through, and finished all three sets, and by the third set, I was chucking the ball down on the ground with ease (mostly because I was picturing it being his face).

While we were walking back to the front of the gym, he turned to me and said, ‘That medicine ball episode should never have aired on TV.  You laughed more than you threw the ball.’  Uhh, yes.  Because laughing is how I keep from crying, my friend. And we all know we don’t need a crying client ‘on the green’.

Wait, You’re Stronger Now. Try This.

Well, my faithful readers… do I have a good one for you.

Today was ‘Upper Body Murder’ day at the gym.  Before I even walked into the gym I was sweating.  It wasn’t even that hot out, but YOU try telling my body that!  Anyways, I walk into the gym, which, like usual, is a super wonderful humid warm space.  Why the hell don’t they pump the A.C. in a gym?  I really don’t get it.  Honestly, this part has nothing to do with my story, I just felt like letting you know that I work out in a sauna.  Ok, continue on.

So, my trainer and I enter the dungeon…err, the weight room, and we head to a set up with weights you can pull towards you in all sorts of directions, depending on how you set it up.  On the top of this unit there are handles so, those who are physically able, can do pull ups.  Pull ups are just another one of those things that I have never been able to do, and couldn’t ever see myself doing.

Well, like usual, my trainer thinks or assumes that I am much more fit/athletic/able to do things, only based on the fact that I’m now ‘lighter’.  So, he says, ‘Hold on, let me go get something.  You’re gonna try something’.  He walks back over to me, carrying a Plyo box (When I see these boxes, I cry.  Immediately.) and says, ‘Here, step up on this and grab those handles’.

‘Ummmm what?  Wait a fucking second… do you think I’m going to do a pull up???  You’re insane.  I hate you.  You DO know this will become a blog post, right?!?’  is what I said without filter or giving a shit about who was around me… but I stood up on the box, to appease him.  I grabbed the handles, pulled up, and immediately lost all strength in my arms and just ended up hanging there.  Just fucking hanging, off of a metal structure, in the middle of a weight room, in a hot and humid gym, with people watching me.  I looked at myself in the mirror and felt like I was looking at that poor kid in elementary school who couldn’t get across the monkey bars, and just hung there (that’d be me folks!).  That’s when I got down.

I’m not even quite sure WHAT was going through my trainers head, because he didn’t skip a beat, and he got up onto the Plyo Box.   He grabbed the handle bars, and said, ‘No, you’re supposed to do it like this‘, and proceeded to pull himself up.

Well, no shit, asshole.  I know what it’s supposed to look like.  That’s what I tried to do!

He gets down, and asks me to try again. Apparently for shits and giggles, he wants to see me suffer or fail or cry or fall or whatever.

I get back up, grab the bars (he pointed to new handles for me to hold, as if that would help me lift entire hot mess of a body), and pulled up as far as I could.  Quick image- I was basically just HANGING there.  My arms were ever so slightly bent.  Clearly I can’t do this.  I guess I proved my failure to my trainer, because he told me to get down, so I did the opposite and immediately started to swing my entire body in a circle, around the Plyo Box, while hanging from the bars above.  Cirque Du Soleil style.  Wheeee!!

No joke, he thought I was falling, and he started sweating because he was so scared… or was it the fucking humidity in the gym??

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This is a Plyo Box.  You can call it the Devil Box too, and we can make it a thing.

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Guys, look!!  It’s me!!!

An Inside Peek…

I know all of you are wondering what I’m like at the gym.  Right? No? Oh, well you’re about to find out anyways.

Let me just start by saying that I’m pretty sure that when I walk into the weight room, the guys working out groan in frustration.  No joke.  When they see me coming, they know that the weight room will no longer be a quiet place for them to concentrate on what they’re doing.  Ally is here.

So, I never go into the weight room alone.  For me, it’s the equivalent of walking down the basement stairs when you were little, and being scared that the Boogey Monster would pop out at you.  I’m scared.  I know what to do, and how to do it, but I still don’t trust myself to actually DO anything in there, alone.  So, my lucky trainer gets to accompany me.  He hates it.  In fact, the other day he said to me “I think you were put in my life to teach me patience”.  Well sir, you’re welcome. 🙂

When I’m in the weight room, I am usually covered in sweat, struggling to catch my breath, and pushing myself super hard.  Sounds exactly like how it should be, right?  Ok… so let me also add that I swear constantly, threaten the life of my trainer, and have no problem whining and complaining every step of the way.   I know, you’re probably like, ‘WHAT??  Ally SWEARS??’  If you’re thinking that, then you have some reading to do.  Go back and start with my very first blog entry.  See you in a bit!! But yes, it’s true; My mouth has no filter, and you know what?  I don’t care.  It’s who I am.

99% of the time, when I leave the gym, I text my trainer and apologize for threatening his life.  He knows I won’t actually suffocate him, or punch him in the face.  He also knows  that I don’t really dream of ways to make him suffer, like he does to me.  Yet, I still say all of these things; but only when I’m lifting the weights, or pushing the sled, or throwing the medicine ball, or struggling to use the battle rope… FINE!.., or really just about anything I do there.  These things just seem to fall out of my mouth when I’m struggling to function.

Honestly, I think what drives these muscle men the craziest, is that I’m LOUD (Mom, can you believe it??).  Beyond the threats and swears, I grunt, scream, whine, and eventually collapse to the floor.  I really do think that the guys working out rejoice when my 30 minutes of torture end, and I leave.

If I’m not being incredibly annoying doing all of these things, then I’m very busy talking to my body.  Specifically my right arm.  Sometimes I can’t even get it to move.  I look at it and say, ‘Fuck you, bitch! Move!’ out loud.  No shame.  Oh, and my left leg??  That asshole decides to quit 15 minutes into my lower body workouts.  Cool.  Thanks a lot, body.

It’s not ALL bad though.  I have this interesting way of completely pissing off my trainer, and then making him laugh at me for whatever reason.  Usually it’s because I’m making some insane face (or so he says).  You know how some people have Resting Bitch Face?  I guess I have Insane Workout Face.  When he laughs, I laugh (and then he gets mad at me for laughing because it means I’m not working out hard enough).

So there it is, folks.  That’s an inside look at being in the gym, with me.  Anyone want to join me with my friend pass??

Year In Review

Phew!  The end of the year for anyone is crazy, right?  End of year for business, end of year parties, end of year get togethers… It’s all very funny really, because the very next day, after the year ends, and the new year begins, it’s like nothing ever happened.  Life goes on, business starts anew, more parties and get togethers are planned.  One of the things I talk about a lot in my blog, is using Map My Walk to help me track my progress.  During the course of this blog, I have mentioned the stats that I have built up, over days, weeks, and months of using it.  Well, just like everything else, Map My Walk does an end of year review… and It. Is. Amazing.   All I have to say is, what a year I’ve had!!

Now, keep in mind, I haven’t pushed myself this far in a long time. It may be nothing to YOU, but to me… this is true success.

2014 STATS-
Workouts- 209
Hours- 91.1
Miles- 374.93
Calories- 92044

Now, the goal for 2015 will be to beat those numbers.  Thats all you can strive for, right?  To be better than your previous self?  I will do that this year.

79.1; That’s more than THREE Boston Marathons.

Ever have one of those moments when you think to yourself, “I really should be _____” (fill in the blank).  I had one of those moments as the rain was pouring down, causing my back to ache just a tad bit more, and preventing me from taking my walk.  My walk, by the way, is the only thing that is helping my back pain feel any better, besides the Physical Therapy twice a week.  Have I mentioned how much I love PT?  …the way they massage my butt, and load me with heat and ice…. this stuff is great.

Anyways, back to the story at hand, so I’m feeling a little crappy because I can’t get outside to walk.  So, I open up my MapMyWalk webpage on my computer, and marvel in the information before my eyes….

Since the beginning of May:

DISTANCE-79.1 miles

DURATION- 21:55 hours

CALORIES- 12,780 burned

WORKOUTS- 40 completed

Ok, back to feeling HAPPY and UPBEAT! I’m pushing myself as far as I can go right now, and I will continue to grow, and get better, and be faster, and impress myself.

Besides, screw the rain!  I’ve WUN in rain before!  I can do it again!

Picture 011Before
IMG_3887DURING… (after is something we’re always working towards)