Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Fattie, Fattie Two-By-Four

I started another post with this subject and I got like 7 paragraphs in and realized that I hadn't even begun to talk about what I really wanted to talk about. So in the interest of brevity and the sanity of all you loyal readers (whoever you may be), I'm starting fresh.

Ok, so in a nutshell, the idea that took up 7 paragraphs in my scrapped post is that while pregnant, I decided that once Lucas was born I would take up running by doing the Couch to 5K (C25K). To help motivate me, I asked my friend Theresa if she'd do the 9-week program with me. For many, many reasons, this whole deal has been delayed until recently. (I'm so proud I was able to condense this much.)

So Theresa and I looked at our schedules and decided to run twice a week together and once by ourselves, to get in the 3 days the program dictates. Dan and I finally sucked it up and got a pass to the Rec Center (highway robbery, by the way. $350 for a couple, it's only something like $50 more for an entire family. But, as usual, I digress.).

Last night, I decided to hit the Rec to do my solo run. The first week of the program is simple: Brisk warm-up walk for 5 minutes, then alternate 60 seconds of jogging with 90 seconds of walking for 25 minutes, then 5 minutes cool-down walk.

Ok, I'm going to have to condense again. Theresa and I tried to start the program in like February. So knowing that, I started exercise at home to free Exercise TV OnDemand to try to get my body over the initial shock of working out again. I didn't think I was doing a whole lot, but when Theresa and I did the first week or C25K I found the first week to be pretty easy. But the program specifically tells you not to jump ahead, to take it week by week, so I gave myself a pat on the back and did week 1. Then after week 1, a lot of unforeseen circumstances presented, so Theresa and I had to put C25K on hold and decided to start from the beginning again.

Fast-forward to yesterday, my first day of week 1 and my day of running alone. I got all dressed up in my cute work out clothes, feeling pretty good since I have lost 18ish lbs on Weight Watchers (almost half-way to my goal woot!). Something about exercise clothes makes me feel really attractive. I don't know what it is, but I guess that's the way things are.

So anyway, I strut into the Rec feeling all good about myself with my cool iPod touch and pink ear buds, get my new ID pass, try not to look at my horrible picture on it, and head over to a free treadmill. There's something about walking into any type of gym or exercise facility that makes you feel like everyone is looking at you. Maybe it's because everyone is looking at you?

Because I was the temporary center of attention, I tried my best to be cool. Since I was feeling pretty good about myself, I was thinking something along the lines of, "That's right everyone, eat your hearts out. You WISH you could look this good 4 months after having a baby. Even you, muscle-bound but otherwise skinny high school boys."

So I get to my treadmill and step on. I took of my sweatshirt and put it on the floor next to me, and, since I was feeling too cool for school, I decided to just toss my wallet onto my sweatshirt. Did I mention it's the kind that has a little push-button clasp? And wouldn't you know, my wallet decided to land right on that button and explode open, tossing loose change and old receipts everywhere.

A quick look around confirmed that, yes, everyone was still looking at me and no, my trying-too-hard-ness did not go unnoticed. Slightly deflated, I tried to position myself in the 4 inches of space between my treadmill and the treadmill of the lady next to me so I could clean up the crap from my wallet, aka my pile of shame.

Ok crisis averted. I hopped back on the treadmill, set my iPod on the monitor ledge and started to untangle my awesome pink ear buds (I really love them). Of course, the ear buds were more tangled than I realized, so my iPod fell off the ledge, and dangled from my hand as I tried to grab at it in the most inconspicuous way possible.

Yeah, inconspicuous is not really my thing. My iPod fell off the ear buds just as I went to grab it and bounced off the treadmill about 2 feet in front of me, right at the feet of the high schoolers. One of them gallantly picked it up and handed it to me. I quickly thanked him and got to work on my run, any possibility of people thinking I was cool completely thrown out the window.

At first, it was easy. I was feeling good, doing my warm-up walk, starting to get back in my groove. Then the jogging started. My treadmill was unfortunately positioned to face a blank wall. All the tv's were far to my left, and I couldn't even look directly into the basketball court. So I basically had nothing to stare at except the timer on my treadmill, ticking more slowly than I'd ever seen it.

After the first few jogging stints, I started to get tired. And then I started to feel nauseous. Refusing to admit that I had quickly gotten out of any sort of shape I'd been in, I quickly decided that I must be pregnant. That would be the only logical explanation for my nausea. Normally, the thought of being pregnant would fill me with fear. This time, I was like, "YES if I'm pregnant then I'll have an iron-clad reason to stop doing C25K." So I decided that 1) I must be pregnant, 2) I'd pee on a stick when I got home, and 3) I won't jog anymore, I'll just walk until I get to 17 minutes (I was somewhere around the 14-minute mark at that point). (Also, the test was negative, in case you're wondering. I really am just out of shape.) (And also, in case you haven't noticed, my favorite things in the entire world of punctuation and grammar are parenthesis.)

So I got to like 16 minutes and 45 seconds, and my iPod turned on me. First, it called me a fattie and a quitter. Then, it threw on my power tracks. Then, it dared me to keep going, just until the end of the song. So I said, "Screw you iPod, I'll show you what I can do." And I kept going until the end of the song. Then it said, "You think you're awesome? Well here's another power track. See if you can make it through this one." Rinse and repeat.

I made it to 30 minutes. Even though I didn't jog after my pregnancy scare, I walked at a very brisk pace on a slight incline. I felt pretty good after those 30 minutes, so I decided I'd go work out my arms a little.

I hate using non-cardio machines because I don't usually know what to do. I am that person that you laugh at when you walk by because I'm trying to use a leg machine for my arms. I literally spend a few minutes putting my stuff on the floor so I can sneak-read the directions on the machine. So I did a few pully-type exercises and decided to just do one more machine - the one with the long bar that you pull down.

I proceeded to make an idiot out of myself by trying to pull down more weight than I could handle and had to adjust the weight to a much smaller level. And then I hit myself in the head with the bar and had to do the whole "What are you looking at? That didn't really just happen" dance and try to hide the tears that involuntarily sprung to my eyes (like when you get hit in the nose and can't help but cry. I wasn't really crying, it was just my body.). And then I decided it was time to go home.

So I'm thinking my program might be more of a couch-to-couch type deal than anything.


3 comments:

Staci said...

Oh Katie, as a fellow klutz, I feel for you! I have dropped my iPod on the treadmill on more than one occassion. And it doesn't help that the Rec cardio room is surrounded by mirrors so everyone can see EVERY little thing you do. Good for you for staying on that treadmill!

Sarah Weller said...

Speaking of peeing I think I just peed laughing. I can totally relate to that post on more levels than one. I'd much rather run through a neighborhood of people I don't know. ;)

Mal said...

You are hilarious, Katie.

So, I've been doing C25K too, because I copied off you. I've been meaning to see if you're still doing it. I am on Week 2. I only do it when the weather is nice though, so I am kind of cheating.