Rest and Relaxation, Damnit

I need to get my head in order. Things seem to be moving faster than I can handle at work, home and personal. I'm sitting on my couch, my hamstrings and knees completely sore from a week of working out at fitness boot camp. I'm making an active effort to ensure I spend equal amounts of time with Manfriend, family and girlfriends. I don't want anyone feeling like I'm ignoring them or that I want to spend less time with them. My head hurts from all the complications related to the several projects on which I am engaged. Even my day off this week felt like work. I'm either too distracted or too tired to settle down and do the things I need to do. Laundry is my continual enemy. My writing time seems to diminish each week. I know consulting is not something I want to do for the rest of my life, but I don't have the brain power to really examine what it is I want to do that can also provide the same amount of financial security.

I'm desperate to find balance and to avoid the mistakes I've made in the past. I seem to be falling short in areas.

Honestly, I'm burnt out. I could really use a break. Unfortunately, with Purple Leg at the beginning of this year, my vacation time is scant at best for the rest of the year.

A little rest and relaxation is in order. So, this weekend I'm doing as little as possible - with the exception of laundry.

Second Chances

I watched Sex and the City for the umpteenth time. I really am a sap for the romantic comedy.

In a scene with all four girls, Samantha talks about not being happy all the time in her relationship, and looks at the other girls for agreement. She asks Charlotte how many times she's really happy in her marriage. Charlotte, the only one not in turmoil in the movie, says, "I'm happy every day. Maybe not all the time every day, but I'm happy every day."

If you were a fan of the show like I was, you know that Charlotte's road to happiness was not simple or straight-laced. She was married to someone who couldn't...perform. The two of them couldn't work it out for additional differences, and eventually divorced. This shattered Charlotte's view of the fairy-tale marriage she always wanted. And then she met Harry Goldenblatt.

Sometimes, like Charlotte's storyline, happiness comes in the form of second chances.

I dig that concept.

Exhaustipated

I'm a little run-down after this week.

For starters, my hot water heater broke. This is after almost a month of trodding down to the basement every three to four days to reset it so I could get hot water. Tuesday night, Manfriend went into the basement to check if there was any water from the torrential downpour we've been experiencing in our area. I heard him bellow, "Cher...I think you better get down here." Never a good sign. I walk down the stairs, and it's like Amazon rain-forest humid. I see water pouring from the overflow of the water heater, and it appears to be raining from my ceiling.

Shit.

There's water dripping from the ceiling, and from all the house wires, too. Time to call Dad.

Manfriend and Dad determined, thankfully, the water dripping from the ceiling was condensation, and not a broken pipe. They dried everything using a leaf blower and shop vacuum, and then instructed me to call my service company. A technician came out and replaced the lower element, and said someone else would return in the morning to replace the upper element and the relief valve.

Wednesday, the technician came and replaced the remaining parts. I was working from home. As he was downstairs fixing things, my internet connectivity went dead. I was not happy, as I was in the middle of a meeting which required me to use netmeeting, a webconferencing tool. After he finished, I asked him if he had touched anything other than the hot water heater. He said no. While happy I would have hot water like normal people do, I was very frustrated my connection could not be restored. Because I looked like hell and refused to go to the client site looking the way I did, I packed everything up and worked at the local supermarket's wi-fi cafe, which is about a mile or so away from my house.

Do you know how difficult it is to facilitate a conference call while someone on the loud speaker is yelling "PICK UP ON AISLE EIGHT?" Side note: Peeps at the grocery store, please - you have a loud speaker. There's no reason to SHOUT!

Thursday morning, I turn on my shower faucet, and guess what? No. Hot. Water. I could feel myself unhinge. I called the service company begging them to get someone out later in the evening. My buddy John talked me off the proverbial ledge, explaining it was most likely a circuit breaker issue. I took the quickest shower in my life (I had lukewarm water.), and got to work early. I tore home after an exhaustive day of meetings, and met up with my Dad. He took a look my basement configuration, went over to the array of switch and fuse boxes, and found the breaker for the hot water. Click. Let the Seraphim sing - HOT WATER! I called the service company and canceled the visit. The cable company technician arrived, and replaced some old splitters, and I had wonderful, glorious internet connectivity again! Woo-hoo!

Friday, I got up at 4:30am for my fitness boot camp session, and the majority of it was running. Yep. Running. My exercise kryptonite. We were to run a two-mile course, and then come back for two to three exercises (push-ups, flutter kicks/crunches, and squats). My running was more run-jog-walk-drag-get yelled at to pick up the pace-run-jog-walk-walk-run the home stretch-collapse. From there, took a FABULOUS hot shower at my house, and then worked from 9am to 11pm.

I crawled into bed on Friday, and swore I would sleep through to Sunday. I slept...and woke up at 7am. *whimper* I couldn't fall back to sleep again, and got up for the day. I returned my client manager's text to hear his feedback and to provide him with any updates I had on the previous day activities, had lunch with a couple of friends, and went to Manfriend's house for dinner and hanging out.

Today will be laundry day, and anything else that comes up. I'm hoping there's a nap somewhere in this day's agenda. :-)

I think I've grown gills...

What is up with all of the rain? Don't get me wrong: It's great for the greenery. But, sheesh.

This morning I woke up to the news and saw the weather forecast, which indicated to me not only would the roads be slick, but the traffic would be horrendous, too.

I wasn't disappointed. It took me 2.5 hours to get to my client site today. Boo.

Tomorrow, I will work out in the great outdoors. It will be soggy and muddy. Awesome.

Not Too Bad Today...My Groin Might Give You a Different Story, Though

Day 1, Week 2 of Fitness Boot Camp is under my belt. I thought I had actually worked through the groin muscle pain until one particular move where you "shuffle" across half a field, and then switch and "shuffle" the second half. As soon as I switched, I felt my right groin scream at me. I yelped in unison.

Dr. Drill Instructor used a different approach today. He announced squad leaders. We have BEE Bach, who is all sorts of awesome. (She did this slide across the field on her belly - very reminiscent of Brandi Chastain or Mia Hamm!)

Each squad leader led us through one exercise and one stretch exercise. We then lined up into six squads. I'm in squad three. We were instructed there were stations where various exercises were conducted.

The following is my recollection of those exercises. It's 5:30am, and you're lucky I remember my name. As Dr. Drill says, I've got to wrap my tiny little brain around these items. Some of these items, I've made up names, but hopefully they give you a picture of what happened in each station. I'm a work in process. So is my brain and memory.

My squad went to four stations. To do so, we had to run various parts of what I affectionately call "the evil mo-fo mile." Our team ran a quarter of it, then got into formation. The first exercise was "shimmying" on all fours to the center of the space, and then do 20 squats. We repeated this twice.

Then, we ran to the next station, where we did lunges up a hill and then ran down the hill. We repeated this a number of times. Then we got down on our butts and pulled ourselves up the hill using our arms (this was to work out the triceps). We did this once, I believe, before another squad appeared.

We got up, and ran to the third station, by the picnic tables. We did reverse push-ups by getting in a sitting position with our backs against picnic table seats and using our arms pushed ourselves up. We did 20 of those. Then we did push-away squats, where we squatted and shoved ourselves away from the table. (20 of those). Then we did steps ups, basically stepping up with one foot on the picnic table seat, then lifting the other; getting down, and using the opposite leg, repeating the process 20 times. Our final piece in this station was to do pushups using the table, by pushing as close to the table as possible, the pushing away, clapping your hands together, and then repeating the process 20 times.

Our final station was our home field, where we did lunges half way across the field, then sprinted the second half of the field. We did squats, push ups, and one-armed holding positions with each arm. I'm forgetting the order now, but somewhere in there we did the shuffle across the field where I re-injured my righ groin muscle. We then ran back to the opposite end of the field, and did planks, super planks, modified sit ups, held our legs six inches from the ground and did circles clock-wise and counter clockwise, and then more more modified situps. As we were doing this, the five other squads were coming in, and at the end we did what I can only describe as a "squat showdown." We held this position for a long time.

We then came together, sat down, for school. Dr. Drill talked about the importance of discipline to make it through the program, and encouraged us to talk to our neighbors to the left and to the right to encourage them and to get to know them, as we will be in a team unit.

My trusty Philadelphia Eagles hat needed to be washed from last Friday's hour in the rain, so my head was soaked and covered with cut grass, as was the rest of my body. Note to self: buy multiple hats, be they baseball hats or skull caps.

I am glad I am done, and that I am starting off my day with this. While I'm not nearly as good as some of the others in the squad in terms of performance, I'm pushing myself as hard as I am able to go.

Today was a good day.

Fear of Full Metal Jacket Moment!

I am pleased to say I survived week one of Fitness Boot Camp. And when I say survived, I mean barely: This first week included getting a prescription for a rescue inhaler and pulling both groin muscles. Let's just say I have a new appreciation for the military recruits.

The instructors keep saying it's not a competition, but I've seen the Vincent D'Onofrio scene from Full Metal Jacket, and I'm a little nervous. We're supposed to do a baseline test on Monday.

It's been two days of rest. I am still sore in a few places, and I have no idea what that will mean for tomorrow.

Oye.

Still taking it a day at a time, but it is intimidating that there are 50-year-olds passing me during the running portion of the camp!!!

Oil...Can...

As I've written in a previous post, I decided to sign up for a Fitness Boot Camp.

Monday, I thought I had made a terrible mistake. I woke up at 4:30am, managed to get dressed, put on underarm deodorant, brushed my teeth, put on my trusty Philadelphia Eagles hat, and drove to the park. I was told on-time (5:30am) is late, so I got there at 5:15 and managed to get a parking space. There were a total of 100 "recruits" (newbies) and "veterans" who attended the first session.

I didn't realize how poorly out of shape I was until the calisthenics drill began. I managed to do a lot of them, but not all of them. I was wheezing so badly that I had to stop a few times. After 45 minutes worth of planks, side-straddle hops (the new-fangled way of saying jumpin' jacks), push ups, hello dollies, cherry pickers, and others I can't even remember the names of, we lined up in rows of three to run. At about a tenth of a mile, my allergies took over my lungs and I had to stop. I walked the rest of the way. I was the last one to join the platoon during Dr. Drill's first talk.

Needless to say I went home, feeling a little defeated. Pathetic. I stood under the hot water of my shower for about 40 minutes. My tired, aching muscles really appreciated the heat.

I got changed, and went to work. Later that night, I went to Manfriend's house, and as I promised, worked out on the elliptical. I managed to get in 19.08 minutes. Then he got on, and I zoned out.

I left his house, and crawled into bed, realizing I had to get up early AGAIN because I had to travel to Jersey for work in the morning. The alarm rang at 5:30am. I whimpered, and my legs were absolultely screaming at me. I managed to get ready and out the door to beat rush-hour traffic. I did a lot of walking on-site, and my legs were really starting to get ticked off, to the point where people were laughing at me as I struggled to get seated in various meetings.

I thought, "How the heck am I going to do this for eight weeks?"

My friend C wrote me during the day, providing words of encouragement. She said even though she's been through it twice, her legs were hurting, too.

As she advised, Tylenol would become my best friend on Tuesday night.

This morning, I heard thunder and lightning. I was kind of excited, thinking, "Ooooo. Maybe we'll work out indoors." No such luck. The skies cleared up in time for 5:30am, and we ran out to the field and worked out. I was covered in grass and mud by the time I left today. And I smushed two worms on the way down to do plank exercises. (Ew.)

My legs hurt just as much as they did yesterday, but I feel better about today. I ran a little, started to wheeze, walked the rest of the way, was the last person to sit down, again. It doesn't matter: I felt better about what I accomplished for the day. I'm just going to take it a day at a time.

If I had to set a long-term goal, it would be to get through all the exercises prior to the running. My guess is by week eight, I'll still be the last one to sit down, but perhaps I'll have a slow jog going, rather than a walk.

In the meantime, I am SORE. It's a good sore, but it's SORE nonetheless.