Day 3: Weights!
I do not belong in a weight room. I have no idea what I am doing in there, because I have never made the effort to learn. I have read enough to know that proper form and appropriate weight load are essential, but my knowledge ends there. I know just enough to make a trip to the weight room at the Y intimidating, almost a fool's errand. Everyone in there seems to know exactly what they are doing. I look at the free weights, the balls, the mats, the machines and it all feels like an insurmountable Everest of unexplored terrain. Perhaps I'm just too dumb to be a weight lifter!
I should probably try to hire a trainer, but that sounds crazy to me: expensive and time-consuming for a person with very little time or money to spare.
Where does one BEGIN?
I slunk over to the Y on a beautiful Sunday afternoon because I figured the weight room would be sparsely attended and I was right. There were just two women on the machines and a couple of bulky lunkheads grunting over the free weights. (You see my level of intimidation: those lunkheads are probably Rhodes Scholars, but I must take comfort in age-old stereotypes just to get myself in the door.)
I opted for the machines, mostly because the seats and straps more or less force you into the proper position. This was probably the best place to start. I did 3 complete cycles of the Cybex machines: abs, arms and legs. I worked efficiently from machine to machine and the whole business took about 45 minutes. By the last round I felt shaky and weak, but not overwhelmingly exhausted.
While I was working out, our local Gym Rat (GR) came in and started chatting. Every gym has one of these guys: he is ALWAYS there. He chats up all the ladies and makes buddies with all of the young weight room studs. GR had heard that I ran the VT 100 and he started asking me about it (as I was laboring intently under the Lat Pulldown) in a voice loud enough to be heard around the gym. This caused a small sensation among the lunkheads: "Dude, that's a WHOLE 'NOTHER LEVEL!" Nice people, really. Definitely helped me feel much more at home.
I was not as sore the next day as I would have imagined. If I can get out today, I may go back and try another round on the machines.
Day 4: This Not Running business is getting harder. My ankle/shin/foot feels much better. I really, really, REALLY want to get out and give it a test run.
Mornings are the most difficult. Typically, I am a morning person and thus a morning runner. I hoof through town in the pre-dawn dark while the kids are sleeping. I absolutely love this time of day. And I feel safer running early in the morning than late at night (my other option). I figure all the axe murderers are probably home sleeping it off by 5 a.m.
But I persevered. I got up early, got some good writing work done, and resisted the urge to tie on my running shoes and head out the door. The boys, as always, came bolting down at 6, eliminating the possibility of escape.
Brian goes back to work this week (Waaaa), so he is trying to pack in quality kid time before school starts (he's a physics teacher). All three kids are currently obsessed by musical instruments. Simon in particular spends every waking hour drawing instruments, playing orchestra with his Webkinz, and incessantly asking anyone and everyone: "What instrument do you want for your birthday?" and "What's your favorite instrument that we don't have?"
Simon, for some reason known only to him, really wants a trumpet.
So Brian decided that this was the day to take the kids to the Caruso Music in New London. Caruso's is a wonderful store with a tremendously indulgent staff. They do not freak out when the kids bang the drums, strum the guitars, shake the tambourines and play the pianos. I decided to go along as well, because I knew if I stayed home I would run.
We spent almost an hour testing instruments, mostly drums. I am always hyper-vigilant with the kids in this place because I do not want to test these good people's patience. They really are amazingly enthusiastic and good-hearted. We fitted Nell for a violin (she desperately wants to play the violin) and they will call us when a good half-size instrument comes in.
Simon kept eying the trumpet in the window.
"Can I look at the trumpet?" has asked me over and over.
"Yup, " I replied over and over. "Go ask the guy at the desk if you can see the trumpet. He's very nice."
I do want these kids to learn to ask for what they want. I am terrible at this. I figured this was as good a place as any for a little assertiveness training. Simon, however, disagreed. He wanted me to ask for him. We went back and forth like this until he finally summoned up his courage and requested a few toots on the trumpet.
"That's a very expensive orchestra trumpet," the man at the desk explained, "but let me see what I have over here."
He pulled a dusty case from the shelf and handed it to Simon. "This is a trumpet that a friend of ours refurbished for some kid interested in music," he told me. "He (indicating Simon who was very excitedly spinning the trumpet in his hands) seems to fit the bill. I don't feel right trying to sell it."
He turned to Simon, "You can have it," he said.
Nell just had to verify: "You mean we can bring it home for FREE?"
"Yup. Enjoy!"
Wow! Simon was beside himself. He thanked the man on the way out ("Thank you for giving me this trumpet!") and preened proud as a peacock all the way back to the car, trumpet case swinging by his side.
This is how he spent the rest of the day!
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Not Running in the afternoon and evening was amazingly simple. Brian and I both seem to have come down with a little bug. We both had sick bellies and sore heads. And we could barely keep our eyes open. So we put on an Emergency Video.
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(I never do this. The last time I put on an Emergency Video was last Christmas Eve when I was desperately trying to finish my annual Buche de Noel cake for Christmas dinner).
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Brian and I crashed out for an hour, ate Raman noodles for dinner and called it a night. I cannot believe I have not run, biked nor swum for four days. So weird that this is something to be proud of!