Fat camp, days 12 and 13

Sorry about not posting last Thursday night.  That’s what happens when mommy goes to work.

Or, goes back to work.  Last Thursday, I busted my ass and taxed my brain and probably made 9400 laps around the stage…and then went to fat camp.

Where Molly proceeded to whip us into a treadmill frenzy by making us walk at a whopping 15% incline (as high as the treadmill goes) for three whole minutes.  All the while threatening us if we touched the sides or front of the treadmill.  That’s just mean.  Because if a 4% incline is like going up an exit ramp then a 15% is like walking directly uphill.  Both ways.  In the snow.  With no shoes.  With my brother on my back.  I’m just saying. 

I thought.  My heart.  Was going to explode.  I may or may not have given myself a hemorrhoid trying not to fall off the damn thing.

Speaking of falling off…there’s a new camper in town.  And that camper?  Is not female.  I know.  Weird.

And why is it that Molly puts all the new campers with me?  Am I really Mayor McCheese.  She knows that I don’t like people. 

So this guy is very tall.  And one biscuit away from one sixth of a ton. (You do the math)  And within five freaking minutes…we are all still chatting in a friendly sort of way with each other.  He starts to drip sweat.  On the belt.  The key pad.  His shirt.  And…he is in desperate need of shower.  Five minutes into the class.  Great.

I’m all for getting fit.  And not sweating while eating.  And I can appreciate that this guy has the gonads to join a class of fat girls.  (And maybe that’s his M.O.?)  But, dude.  You might need a shower BEFORE and AFTER class.  Either that, or burn those shoes and start over with new.  Because…wow.

Maybe I’m sensitive.  Maybe I haven’t lived with a man or been around men much (except weeks that I work) so I am particularly sensitive.  I hope that’s it.  I hope that guy’s wife has some strong Tide or something.

I told him, as he was getting us all in trouble by holding on to the top of the treadmill, to drop his speed just a little if the incline was too much.  (It’s counterproductive to hold on at this incline I guess.)  He ignored me.  And then a minute later, lost his footing and fell totally off the belt.  One second he’s there and then next I’m looking over my shoulder to see him getting up off the floor.  I?  Would have died of shame.  But he just kept on trucking. Good for him.

So I get my ass kicked at fat camp (687 calories, thankyouverymuch) and have to take my sweaty self back to work.  For four more hours. 

That’s how the rest of the weekend went.  Work, work and only work.  Not that it was that difficult.  I know what I’m doing and, honestly, I’m pretty good at it.  I think.  But it was still time spent.  Time away from my kids and the gym.  I haven’t lost any weight but I haven’t gained any either.  Usually I’m in for a good 5-7 pound gain with each show.  That’s how I got in this predicament.  Too many beers, cheeseburgers, Hershey’s minis and trips to Starbucks. 

I had today mostly off.  So…off to the gym.  Mondays are usually just 30 minutes of interval training and then 30 minutes nutrition.  An easy class, sort of.  I’m trying to get caught up so I went to the gym this morning and did 45 minutes of cardio (followed by half a Thai Chicken pie at California Pizza Kitchen which turns out to be not so bad on the old diet). 

And then a shopping trip with a friend: Sur La Table…how I love you.  I got to pet all the Le Cruset that I will someday bring home to live at my house.  You know, when I have roughly a grand laying around all unused and unspoken for.  So…it will be a while.  And, Barnes and Noble.  Where I got my nook.  Who is resting comfortably on the charger as we speak.  Disposable income?  What disposable income?  Yeah, well, I got hosed at Christmas and probably will not do much better on my birthday (coming right up!) so this is my gift to myself.  I have to mentally justify such a purchase.  But I’m very pleased.  Super pleased.  And if anyone is looking for Birthday ideas…there you go.  My two favorite places on the planet.

Back to the gym for fat camp.  Remember…Monday?  30 minutes?  Yeah unless the nutritionist is sick.  Argh.

More testing.  More timing.  And counting of squats and power lunges (sounds vaguely dirty, yes?) and situps (I might have peed just a little.  My bladder was trying to take over for my weak ass abs) and pushups and those things that we used to call “burpees” in junior high P.E.  Squat thrusts (also vaguely dirty sounding).  All of these sandwiched between two minutes of interval incline treadmilling. 

Argh.

I’m tired.  And I just want to take my nook to bed. 

(Sounds vaguely dirty, doesn’t it?)