Despite feeling weak as a kitten after yesterday's horrific migraine, I decided that I needed to go swim and do the short Ab Attack class I've sort of added to my Monday schedule semi-permanently. So after dawdling at the bus stop, I did indeed head off to the Y. Today I ended up in the slow lane, partly because when I first arrived, there was a guy who was clearly a *real* swimmer, and not out of shape and splashing along like me, doing an *actual* workout in the fast lane. I decided to leave him to it and popped into the slow lane. Because of the water jets in this lane, detritus tends to collect to the right of "t" in the middle of the lane instead of being washed into the gutters and run through the filters. Gross as this is, at least it's on the bottom and likely to stay there. It was the hair ball the size of a large rodent wafting through the water that almost did me in today. The fact that it was swimming along faster than I was, was also disheartening. But I got in a decent length workout, even if it was pitifully slow.
I went to change for the 10 minute ab class after my swim and discovered just how sadly out of shape I am. Now I realize that putting clothing of any sort on a wet body is tough, but when you have to struggle for a good two minutes (and I'm not exaggerating) in order to wrestle the sports bra on your body, it's a sign. Either you are the flabbiest, most spaghetti-armed, out of shape loser on the planet or the weight you've gained has all settled smack into your chest. Or both! And neither option is a pleasing one for me. Once I did finally wriggle myself into the workout clothes, I felt the need to reassert myself. So I pulled my grossest toenail off. See, I warned you it was a bad visual post! Since my feet were easily the most hideous at the Team in Training alumni gathering this weekend, I thought it was time to do something about it. And I don't like other people touching my feet so a real podiatrist was out. But after 45 minutes in the pool, the toenail was nice and pliable and it came off without any pain. Now I just have to figure out how to get rid of the black, callused growth that was under it.
Toenail-less, I headed to Ab Attack where was I was a total wuss and couldn't even do cruches for 4 minutes straight. Pitiful! And the number of bits that hurt were impressive. My wrist protested holding up my entire body weight during plank (never mind how it felt about hover). My one thigh muscle, which bothered me in the pool doing backstroke (how weird is that?), was still low-grade annoying. And my abs, well, it goes without saying that they were on strike. So all in all, a totally successful class. NOT!
Now I just have to channel the toenail ripper-off-er during the conference for W. instead of the wimpy, weepy, marshmallow mom. I suspect that if I blurt out, "I peeled off my own toenail," they will instantly understand from whence many (all?) of W.'s problems come.
whoa, that was gross -- the one and only time my wife gave me a pedicure (she was in beauty school) my toenail came off! Even though it grew back, she won't touch my feet...
ReplyDeleteHey, you were warned! Be very, very grateful I don't generally post pictures. Although, come to think of it, if I posted pictures, I might get more traffic on here. Kind of like the rubber-necking effect. Post a picture, gross someone out, grossed out person e-mails friend with link and a "gotta see this nasty foot picture" e-mail, friend comes to blog, etc. Hmmmmmm. I may owe you something for a marketing tool idea! But if I start getting more traffic, I might feel obligated to be more circumspect with what I post, which will kill the whole blog and suck the joy out of writing it. So, I'm definitely not using that marketing idea so I don't owe you anything. Shew, that was close!
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