Early to bed, even earlier to rise. Body had its own ideas yesterday, and threw on the brakes after yoga class last night. I got home, showered, and fell asleep – at 6:30 on a Friday night. Obviously we are party animals around here.

Whether it was too high of temperature in the class (Bikram is not referred to as hot yoga for nothing) or something else, I came home with a queasy stomach when I rarely have tummy troubles. Unless I eat bad food, of course; food poisoning seems to happen to everyone once in awhile.

So after a solid 8+ hours of sleep, I was awake with M at 3:30 in the morning. Oh well. The nice thing about self-employment is that I got a lot of work done and can reprioritize other chores and errands after I’m done with my practice today. My client is still out of town, so I have a pretty free day after this.

And practice … oh my. After a few weeks of doing the day series J has been working on with me, I returned to the favorite full-body dumbbell routine. Fortuitously, J was subbing for the instructor at the 9 a.m. class, effectively pushing it back to 9:30 to accommodate his regular Saturday morning training clients, so I had extra time in the practice room with the bench. It’s not that the other teacher boots me out or that I am somehow interfering with the class; I just prefer to be done before they start because between the music and her cueing the class I become extraordinarily distracted.

Anyway, today was full-body dumbbells, and I did 5 sets of the first section, 4 sets of the second, which is that maximum range J has written on this List. And it was a first for me, but I reasoned I feel stronger now, having been doing a lot of other stuff between the last rendition and now, plus it’s Saturday and I had extra time. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?

Nothing bad, actually no down side for me today. I walked away feeling very pleased with myself for how far I have progressed in this, between slightly heavier weights since last time and still making at least the higher minimums for each exercise. Fatigue, for sure, but in the best ways. And I am sure it’s just me, but 5 then 4 sets of this List time just seemed to whiz right on by. Lately we have Lists with 4 sections of 4 exercises each, but this list is 2 sections of 8 or 9 exercises. My familiarity with the cadence and  order made the practice zoom-zoom-zoom without having to pause and check what was next made time pass quickly.

But this is my first time of going through the complete 4 sets of single leg Romanian deadlifts followed by curtsey lunges on the same leg. Those curtsey lunges have been killing me since their introduction; it always feels like someone is stabbing me directly in the side of my ass cheek with an icepick. I suppose that makes them effective? Today by the third set, I felt as if my bum was completely numb. I was cruising along, methodically working my way through the List, but the curtsey lunges came up and there was minor sound deep inside body, probably my glutes bleating out weakly “is it over yet?”

Now, sitting down and typing this hours after leaving the gym, I feel fabulous. I can definitely feel I have been doing something at the gym, but still feel particularly energized and spectacularly good, as if I have won something big. Considering the events of this Saturday, perhaps I have while working my way through my Saturday chores and errand-running and then dinner with friends.

On my to-do list today was taking M’s car in for a smog check. One of the weirdnesses of M and I is that I am the purchasing agent for all our vehicles and I am also somehow responsible for taking them in for service. Today was M’s car for smog, and I swear it was not in that bay for 5 minutes – it took longer to fill out the paperwork and my credit card slip to print. For once there was no waiting, though, and I was in the midst of several conversations about wedding issues and mini-drama about my dress and then poof! He’s back, it’s passed, and I am on my way.

I was going to do a separate post about the dress (for G and K’s wedding in exactly 2 months), but it has become a non-drama by my choice. K’s aunt has purchased the exact same dress, in the exact same color as the one I planned to wear. K told her that I, mother of the groom, had purchase that dress months ago and perhaps she should wear something else, and her response was “oh, it will be fine; we’ll be twinsies!” No appalled reaction, no “OMG, I can’t wear this dress to your wedding!” (as would be MY reaction upon learning this was a wedding party member’s choice). Nope, she felt fine about wearing the same dress, and despite all 4 of her daughters (2 of whom are also engaged and getting married in the next few months) trying to encourage some empathy, her response was something akin to “but she’s only the mother of the groom, and I am the mother of the bride.” For any guys reading this, I know this is another of me and my first world problems, but it’s a serious stress-inducing thing for the bride, knowing how upset she would be in this situation and thinking that I probably believe her entire extended family are crazy. After my initial shocked reaction, I told K not to worry about it, I would find another dress. Then  I went online and found another dress, or rather, 4 other dresses, and will pick one of these or keep looking. It is difficult to have any kind of reasonable argument with someone as insensitive and socially backward as K’s aunt apparently is, so I chose to not to further the distress or K’s stress level and simply got online and went shopping for something else.

There are worse things in life than having to shop for clothes, especially online. One of today’s 4 will be The New Dress and all will be well. I’ll look even better in the pictures with the contrasting color. But really, it’s all about G and K, and fortunately I am not so madly in love with the original dress that I am more upset about it now. I worked all that out in my practice this morning.

But at dinner tonight – which was actually more like a party with heavy duty finger food – we crossed paths with my old friend and her husband, the one I ended up cutting off communication with because of her ongoing campaign about weight loss and not really being serious about my health. I do look different than last she saw me, if only that I’ve cut several inches off the length of my hair and am sporting a new setting for my wedding rings. Plus I was wearing a sleeveless dress and showing off the new tone in my arms, and yeah, I have a visible bicep muscle now and worked damn hard for it, because I am the probably the only person in that entire gym that dislikes curls. Arms and body are showing tiny signs of tone these days … at least that’s what several of our other friends were telling me. So yeah, I do have some baby muscle definition starting to peek out. Lots and lots of work yet to do, butI have the whole rest of my life to work at it and can be patient.

Old friend greeted me rather stiffly, and since I made no move to hug her as I typically do everyone I know and have not seen in awhile, she believe I am still mad at her. That is actually an inaccurate statement. I cut off our communication because coping with her ongoing negative attitude toward me and my better health efforts was not at all helpful or encouraging or enhancing either of our lives. Tonight not a word was said by her about my appearance, but there was big show and big enthusiasm for M and his thinner frame. It did not hurt my feelings, which really did kinda/sorta of surprise me even if I was prepared for it. What I’m realizing – I’m a lot tougher than I was 6 months ago. I have another 6 months of nearly daily training under my belt and a significant amount of successful mastery to my credit. I can be very honest in my assessment that I no longer give a flying f**k what she thinks about me or my efforts, and her negativity will no longer have any real impact me the way it would have at one time.

While it is very liberating, it is also a little sad. Her own body image and world view is so narrow and so focused, and there is nothing I can do to change that for  her. It might give her a little zing of power to see a flash of hurt in my eyes from her cutting words, but I was quite ready for it tonight. Not spoiling for a fight. Not even looking for revenge or to even the playing field with an equally cutting remark right back. Merely curious as to what she might say and feeling highly confident that it was not going to ding my ego or bruise my pride. I’m off the insulin and diabetes management drugs. I’m healthy, I’m happy, I’m growing stronger and more confident every passing day. From my perch where I am sitting right now it would be very difficult for her casual cruelty to knock me down or even piss me off a little bit.

I’ve come a loooong way, baby. And damn, it’s feels pretty damn swell.


2 thoughts on “Sometimes I surprise myself

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