Monday. Ha. No shame.
Last Monday, I got down to the gym and did a new circuit training regime: 3-2-1 for short. Circuit A is 10 minutes of cardio, Circuit B is 10 minutes of functional training, Circuit C is core training. The routine plays out like this: A-B-C-A-B-A (3As, 2Bs, 1C). After 50 minutes of a sweat fest, I decided dips are overrated, and the plank is my personal nemesis.
Tuesday: Got in the pool after work and did some laps. A macho-type guy calling himself 'Phelps' challenged me to a 25m race after seeing how strong my butterfly stroke was. I lost, but we were doing freestyle, and he was at least a foot taller than me. Next time though, he won't be so lucky.
Wednesday: I got some great running tips from a friend of mine who trains firemen. In addition to working on my form (pose technique, anyone?), I went for 30 minutes just working on 'feeling uncomfortable' with my heart rate. Basically working consistently at a high THR will help build capillaries on the muscles that eat up fat before carbs. Yes, please.
Thursday: Ouch. Everything is sore, but I went to an hour and a half of Vinyasa yoga, which is strength and balanced based. Later that evening, I attended a workshop at school for a new emsemble piece we're garnering. We ended up doing A LOT of movement-based work, including Suzuki walking, core training, and group flocking - which is like it sounds - flocking in the sense you clump together and move as one. Unfortunately, we were being led through the flocking by a former ballet dancer from Puerto Rico who seemed to ignore the flexibility challenges some of us faced that day.
Friday: Double Ouch. I blame the Puerto Rican. Four hours of Grotowski - cat work and plastiques. For those unfamliar with the Polish theatre guru, Grotowski developed a process of movement work that confuses the central nervous system so as to access emotional levels unavailable to us in our conscious body state. Basically, circling your head counter to your hips in an upside-down triangular position will either make you laugh maniacally or weep uncontrollably while kicking out sideways at imaginary terrors. Four hours of this sort of work will indeed deplete your body of sweat, anger, and any compassion you may have had for the human race.
Saturday: REST. Glorious rest. Helped out at the Spring Ball at the House, checking coats and listening to the live band play standards from the 1940s. Alumni guests danced the foxtrot, tango, cha-cha, waltz, and two-step...all the while I was wondering why the tallest girls always seem to get paired with the shortest guys in this kind of setting.
Sunday: Slept in. (Those ballroom dancers stay up until all hours. You literally have to send the band packing and turn off the lights before they will take their coats home.) More rest for the body, and light eating to compensate for lack of cardiovascular exercise.
I also talked to a few friends this week, and everyone has been so supportive! I have a fear that I will fail at this, but the challenge lies in concentrating on small successes. In the past, I got discouraged because I felt like I wasn't seeing/feeling any results after such hard work. So, I've had to redefine how I'm measuring success.
This week, I'll try to find a word besides 'Ouch' to describe my workouts.
Hopefully it will be something like, 'I want a fifth helping of lunges, with a side of box jumps!'
Ever the overachiever, me.
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