Bleah

Thursday, April 23, 2009

I have put off weightlifting until tomorrow night because to be perfectly honest I am Not a Well Clown. Quite apart from hurting all over, I am having phlegm issues like you would not believe, and it's just a bit difficult to breathe. Not the best circumstances for throwing iron around, really.

So I've popped my full-strength antihistamine (Chlor-Trimeton, how I love thee) and decongestant (the good stuff, not that PE shit), and I'm really, really hoping that it dries up this gunk. If it doesn't, I'm picking up some Mucinex on the way in to work tomorrow. And if THAT doesn't help, well, it could make driving to Tulsa on Friday a bit interesting. Yeah.

I'm not even looking at the scale right now

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

It's not a good idea because 1) added muscle mass fools me into thinking I haven't lost any weight, even though my pants are starting to fall off and I can see the difference in my face, and 2) the Crimson Tide is about to make its appearance and I am retaining enough water to flood the Sahara. Oh, it's so much FUN to be a girl.

It didn't help that every part of me hurt like a bitch yesterday, so much so that I pretty much did a face plant at 10:00 PM (and promptly woke up at 2:30 AM, long enough to kiss Lyndon good night and threaten Jordan with flaming death if he didn't stop meowing to go out). On the plus side, I woke up at 7:45 AM and finished some work for one of my web clients before heading into the office, which means I have the evening for writing, cleaning (we're having a guy come in tomorrow to install baseboards and put in the toilet in the master bath) and going to the gym, so that's all good.

In other news, I'm going to be a traveling fool over the next couple of weeks. This weekend is Conestoga in Tulsa, and two weeks later I'm going to New Orleans with Stacy (the real reason why I started back in with the exercise, as Stacy plans on walking all over the French Quarter and I gotta keep up with the little firecracker). This should be interesting...

This is why I love lifting weights

Friday, April 17, 2009

It's only two weeks into my triumphant return to the iron, and already I can see hints of definition in the arms and legs again, trala. I still remember back in 2004 when I turned over in bed, wrapped my arms around myself and realized I could feel a big old bulge in my bicep -- I REALLY wanna get back to that. The libido's still turned up to 11, as well, but there are ways of, erm, handling that.

The next thing on the schedule is making sure I'm fully stocked up with protein wherever I go (South Beach bars at work, cheese cubes, hardboiled eggs and lots of meat at home). That way, I won't get hungry on the way home and hear the clarion call of McDonald's. I do know from experience that Atkins works a treat with me, but eating nothing but protein 24/7 is a real bitch, organization-wise.

A Poopy Mood

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

I don't know why, but I am in one whopper of a downer mood today. I don't want to write, don't want to clean, don't want to do any of the stuff that I really should be doing (although I did put the new plates on the car and replaced the burnt-out headlight, but that's only because I like to avoid unnecessary run-ins with the Law), don't even want to do anything frivolous and fun, which is unusual for Ms. "Must be doing SOMETHING at all times, even if it's only staring off into space and daydreaming."

And no, I don't feel burnt out. Or sad, or mad, or anything, really. And PMS is a good two weeks away, so that's not it. I just feel...blah. Weird, especially since I've been back at the gym on a regular basis for a week and a half, now, and regular exercise usually does wonders for my mood.

I dunno -- maybe my endocrine system is on strike or something. Somebody tell me a joke, stat.

Yes, I'm back

Sunday, April 12, 2009

And Mellie has fallen in love once again with the iron, thanks to a very, very nice 24/7 gym down the street from our house. I can go down there at 11:00 PM when it's effectively deserted and grunt my heart out while I lift weights and make faces at myself in the mirrored walls. I posted on Twitter that lifting weights can be better than sex, and it's true -- afterwards I'm sweaty, exhausted, full of endorphins and am inordinately pleased with myself. And I don't care who makes fun of me for that opinion, so there, nyah.

There's only one eensy problem with lifting weights -- well, with lifting weights and being in my 40s. Namely, it brings the nominal amounts of naturally occurring testosterone in my system to the fore, and, well...let's just say that I have much more sympathy for teenage boys, because if they're this horny I'm amazed they can walk in a straight line. I'm serious -- this shit is DISTRACTING.