Tag Archives: workout

The Dairy Section


As I swam my laps this morning I had dairy on my mind. 

Cottage cheese as a matter of fact. 

Over the years as I’ve scooted up to the:

table/bar/picnic basket/vending machine/convenience store/drive thru/lunch counter/deli/hot dog stand…
I’ve gone from delicate skim milk to large curd cottage cheese on my *ss. 

The journey “from” large curd to small curd on the booty isn’t actually as long as the journey “to” but it’s infinitely more difficult. 

I was able to perform much of the “to” in the comfort of my very own house, from my very own (& incredibly comfy I must say) couch with a very weighty (metaphorically speaking) remote control in my hand and a large wonderful television at my beck & call. 

The “from” is enacted in the dark of night when only the asinine birds are awake & I stumble into a place smelling vaguely of my high school gym (Go Warriors!) and some sort of liniment that you’re only told about after the age of 97. 

It’s a slow, arduous process but I do see improvement occasionally in the (funhouse) mirror so I think I’ll continue. 

Although, that damned frozen pizza aisle is calling to me & my couch looks longingly at me as I drag my (insert donkey word) back into the house each morning.

I wave a tearful goodbye to my old friend & head back out to (reluctantly) greet the day…


Miracle Nuggets

I thought since my back didn’t hurt as much that I was on the mend and 86’d the meds. 

I think I made a mistake. 

Of all the thinks I’ve thunked, that was an ill informed one & I’m paying the piper for my stupid thunking. 


My workout consisted of tossing & turning all night with each toss accented by an “Aaaauuugggghhhh!!!!” and each turn by an “Oooohhhhh!!!!”

You’re right, I’m wrong.
You have the the knowledge & I have an empty head.
You’re good looking & I’m not attractive. 
(Is that enough groveling?)

Your halo is so bright that I can’t look directly at you. 

With my mouth full of little white miracle nuggets (pills) & a cocktail that I NOW KNOW FOR SURE WORKS, I’m back on the straight & narrow. 

More fuzzy news from the pool tomorrow…


More #&%$ing Curls

Today it’s arms & back and once again I left my arms back at the curl bench. 

They will now live there. The back of them are fused to the elbow pad & the hands are death gripping the bar. 

Good riddance. 
I’m tired of not being able to use them after working out. 

Although most of the gym patrons here arrived on the Nina, the Pinta & the Santa Methuselah, the old guy next to me was running along on the elliptical machine & smiling at my efforts and the grandmotherly woman on my left was laughing outright at the look on my face. 

Gma “You look like you have to poop!”
Me: “I’m trying not to”


Now that the dastardly arms are gone I’m driving home, gripping the steering wheel with my teeth. Wish me luck…

The NFL & Personal Hygiene

Let’s have a short chat about personal hygiene. 

As I’ve spent more time in the pool my skin & hair have tended to dry out a bit so I’ve been sampling some different products to combat the Death Valley feel to my overall person. 

Dove body wash for men has proven to be quite nice. It seems to rehydrate my skin after the chlorine has done its best to suck the soul from my outer layer. 

Head & Shoulders has the distinction of being the “Official shampoo of the NFL” and, upon trying their product, I’ve determined that they must mean the National Farina League because my hair feels like a haystack. 

I’m pretty sure they’ve got some industrial stripper in there. 


As I toweled my hair dry I started a small brush fire & had to jump screaming right back into the pool (where I was immediately consoled with more flirting from my special friend).

***Its Monday so that means a leg workout plus swimming to combat the lethargy of the weekend. Once again after turning my legs into vanilla pudding I had to drag them through the water behind me for a half mile before I could feel them coming slowly back to life. 

I’m fairly sure that the hand prints and drag marks leading to my car are a good indicator that I’m at least not faking it (much) in the gym. 


Have a happy Monday my friends 😉

The Incline Press

As I made my way into the gym this morning I was treated to the sight of the slowest line dancing I’ve ever witnessed. 

Four rows of elderly booties shaking & moving to the sounds of (in my headphones) Tenacious D. 
Removing said headphones, Olivia Newton John came into focus & Let’s Get Physical swam into my aural view. I was amazed & horrified at the same time. I do have to admit that when I resumed Tenacious D the (what I finally realized was aerobics) class got a lot more interesting. 
I imagined the beginnings of a mosh pit in the circle of yoga mats. Henry & Mortimer would be trading blows over Ethel because both we’re so jealous & attracted to her irresistible blue mohawk while Tenacious D’s most famous song (Yes, that one. The only song I’ve ever heard use Zanzibar in the lyrics) played & the beginnings of Higher Ground from the Red Hot Chili Peppers made its entrance. 


Giggling to myself I headed over to a seemingly innocent medieval device called the incline press. 
If you want to feel like a total loser, try the incline press. 

I feel like a total loser. 

I put 100 pounds on it & proceeded to shriek in agony. By the time I did my third set my arms were shooting flames. 


I think I spotted. 

Although I’m pretty sure the flames looked neat from afar, I know that the next couple of days are going to be spent in quiet pain as I recover from that diabolical machine. 

A Song Just For Me

My special lady friend was back in the pool today ; )


As I swam my laps there was a free lane next to me but she quietly slipped into mine with her styrofoam water weights (minus the scuba mask) & began her routine.

This consisted of dancing in place while pumping her arms up & down in the water while humming quietly.

Each time I approached she batted here eyes at me and hummed a little louder. 
When I didn’t pay attention she began singing some show tune from Oklahoma at the top of her lungs. 

When I next surfaced she had a full sound & light stage set up at the end of the pool, was wearing a long blonde wig while belting out Mötley Crüe’s Dr. Feelgood. 

I think she may be lacking attention at home…

Ps. Nike? Your Cross Trainers are full of $&#%. They don’t work at all in the pool. 

Pps. You know how when a movie says “based on a true story” that it’s loosely translated as “this movie is full of crap”? So are these posts based loosely on something I saw or heard at the gym that morning ; )
The lady in question is a real sweetheart who sat next to me in the hot tub after her workout (she actually was humming) & gave me a dynamite recipe for cornbread that I’ll be making today. 
I think I’ve hit the jackpot with the aqua-ettes as they all seem to be approaching me (after finding out what I do for a living) & sharing their best recipes with me :)))))
I’m beginning to enjoy the gym.

The Annual Physical

Just got back from my annual (not) physical & the Doc assures me that my arms & legs are indeed still attached and my head is still screwed on correctly if just a bit bent.

Luckily, I’m still under 50 so the doc’s fingers remained where they ought to and I made it out of the office whimper free.


Just like King Julian I’m physically fit, physically fit, physically, physically, physically fit! (If you have young kids you’ll recognize this from Madagascar) I may now continue with my self emasculating with professional approval.


Muscles I Didn’t Know I had



Ah, the gym. Such a nice, pristine place. 
With the soothing sounds of the Steve Miller Band emanating from the overhead speakers you wouldn’t think that this is a place of torture, humiliation & denim dress wearing speed walkers (true). 
Today I found my gummy legs right where I left them by the drinking fountain and I’ve decided that my arms would prefer to live there as well. 
My torso is slowly making its way to the locker room while my mind drifts in & out of consciousness. 
Lats, biceps, triceps, quintupliceps. Muscles I didn’t even know I possessed and muscles I made up for this post are ON FIRE. 

Tomorrow, more news from the pool. I’m not sure but I think the aqua-ettes have been missing me for the last couple of days.

My Special Friend

As I hauled my great white fish belly into the pool today I was treated to the sight of an elderly lady in full makeup regalia.

She was wearing a pearl (I’m assuming imitation) necklace, a bathing cap, a full scuba diving face mask and a mumuit doing (my best guess) the back stroke. 
As she stopped at the end of the lane she struck up a conversation.
With the scuba mask still in place she looked like she’d been on the sooooo not winning side at the end of a professional welterweight boxing match. Her lips were all puffy under the nose seal & my mind couldn’t shake the vision as my eyes were glued to the center of her face.
I actually had to look at her hands to make sure she didn’t have gloves on & was looking at me for retribution (I know, boxing gloves in the swimming pool. That’s just the way my mind works when oxygen & fatty food deprived).


I realized at that very moment that this wasn’t just a light conversation. SHE WAS FLIRTING WITH ME!!!!!

I guess if you don’t lay it out there you’ll never get the opportunity but that hit me square between the eyes.
I made up some lame excuse about organizing my sock drawer & hightailed it out of the pool. 
She waved & said she see me again. 
Maybe it was my imagination but those words sounded a little threatening…

Today’s workout was a little rough.  I came, I saw, I Concorded.

Feeling Curly



What I think I look like while doing curls…


It seems that many of my workout mornings are sponsored by the letter “F”. 

I’m pretty sure that the reason there’s an exercise called “preacher curls” is because the entire time you’re doing them you’re praying to the almighty that your arms will stop the screaming. 

I kept getting worried looks from the aerobics instructor so I just left them there at the bench unhappily pistoning away. At that point I didn’t even care that I looked ridiculous. 
They’ll make their way home later. 

FYI… “F” is for Fantastic because that’s how I feel. 

FAN $&#%ing TASTIC…


What I actually look like while doing curls.


Stay thirsty my friends…