Shannon’s BodyBlog

It seems as though I have another training partner.  Or actually, someone who is shadowing my partner and I.

This woman is a friend of my TP and I’ve seen her in the gym just about every day.

In my head I’ve named her Chatty Patty because she talks to us every time we see her and will mostly talk to my partner on occasion while we’re doing our sets.

My partner suggested to her that she try some of our routines because she needed something new and different to do.

Now, this woman has a story behind her.  I won’t get into her family life, but I will say she is a two time breast cancer survivor and is still not considered cured.

She has to go in for exams and treatments on a regular basis.

But, she comes in everyday to do some sort of exercise including cardio and light weights.

She has had both breasts removed and had a section of her abdominals transplanted to rebuild her chest.  In addition to all of the surgeries she had to clear out lymph nodes and whatever else they had to do to get rid of the cancer.

So when my partner asked if I minded that she work along side us, how could I refuse?

When people help me without asking for anything in return (Janthony, Herm), there was no way I could possibly say "No".  I would be happy to help her regardless.  I remember when I first started out and how awkward I felt doing new things.  But I was lucky enough to have Janthony as a resource (and I still do) to answer my hundreds of questions about how to do things.

I’m still able to get my workout done without interference because we have her mimic what we do, but at lighter weights.

Right now, using 5 lb DB’s for Arnold Presses is a challenge for her.

She got stuck with form and technique while doing the Rear Delt Flyes, so while I was resting in between a set, I helped her figure out how to position her arms to get it right.

I would love to see her thrive and improve and get as strong as she possibly can.  Sometimes when life is throwing it’s toughest challenges at a person, that is when they try their hardest to improve on something.

Whatever I can do to make her life a little bit easier, I’m happy to do so.
Her body is a mess right now, but I think she’ll go a long way.  She’s not a quitter.

I’m a tweener   My size 4 jeans are fitting tightly on me around my a$$ and thighs (they’re fine at the low waist area), and I’ve refused to buy a larger size because I didn’t want to feel defeated.

But, I’ve been nothing but cranky when I wear my jeans.  If it were up to me, I’d wear skirts or sweatpants every day no matter the weather or the place.  Skirt to the gym in the winter, sweatpants to a formal sit down dinner in the summer….doesn’t matter.

I finally broke down and bought a pair of size 6 jeans   And they are mom jeans…with the control tummy panel (just a coincidence)   But they are stretch denim and I can sit Indian style….or should I say Native American style, they are that comfortable.

I was actually in a good mood yesterday for once.   I didn’t feel constricted or suffocated.

The only problem is that they are loose and I have to keep pulling them up.  Goddamn, that can be annoying…and cranky creating.   There is no size in between that fits just right.

Can’t win!

While shopping for jeans, I tried on a heavy cardigan sweater because I want to wear something now that the weather is cold, because I’m always cold no matter what I’m wearing.  I just need an extra layer to seal in what little warmth my body generates nowadays.

I tried on a size small.  The arms were too tight.  So I tried on a medium.  The arms were too tight.  So I tried on a large.  Take a wild guess… THE ARMS WERE TOO TIGHT!  Grrrr…….. >:(

Tight arms make me cranky too.

I can’t win.

On another note, what is it with guys who look one way, but sound another?

There is a guy at the gym who always wears black…literally head to toe.  He’s got a great V-taper, great physique, good looking, struts around when he walks around the gym.

He and I were walking toward a piece of equipment when we both stopped and looked at each other.  I asked if he was going to use it and he said, "Oh no, I was going to use something else, go right ahead."

I was flabbergasted at the sound of his voice.  It did not match up to his physique or persona.

I wanted to say, "Thanks, Mike Tyson."  That’s what his voice reminded of.  Very disappointing.

Now there is a personal trainer at the gym who is good looking, great shape (SURPRISE!), and is a little on the cocky side.

My training partner mentioned that the female personal trainer hasn’t been around.  I told her she must’ve been replaced with that male personal trainer, who by the way, is a hottie…but a little cocky.

She said, "Yeah, but he has a lisp."

WHHAAAAAAA?  That was disappointing to hear too!

Anyway, I wish they would make clothes for women who have muscles.  I’m not Arnold or anything, but I’m not skin and bones either.

I refuse to conform to fit designers’ perceptions of what women look like.  Either fat and squishy or skinny and squishy.

I just need some roominess and a little give in the fabric.

Is that too much to ask for????

My training partner and I have been talking about getting our kids together for a trail run at the local park to help get them conditioned and off of their butts in general.  We’d like to get them built up to make it once around the pond….about a mile.  And from there, who knows how much longer we can get them to run.

Our boys have played on the same baseball team.  Although they are two of the better players (not to brag or anything) they are also two of the slowest.

They’re big, brawny boys and we say they are power players.  They can hit hard and throw wicked fast, but their running sucks.

When I see them hit the ball and make a run for the bases, I push them along with my hands the way you would try and control the direction of a bowling ball when you see it rolling toward the pins.

It’s like they’re running through a stream of marshmallow Fluff.

My son lost some weight since he started school this September.  He went down a pants size.

It is a worrisome thing to see a Type 1 diabetic lose weight.  He is snacking less than he had been over the summer, but his A1C has been higher than it’s ever been.  It’s not terrible, but it could be a lot better.  We’re working on improving it, though.

I once had to go to a lab to have blood drawn and while sitting in the waiting room, I saw a man come in and sit down.  He was emaciated….the back of his head rested against the wall…his breathing was labored.

I thought to myself, "That poor man looks like he’s dying of cancer."  It was the only thing I could think of.  I couldn’t believe he came in by himself in that condition.

When it was time for me to have my blood drawn, I saw him go to the room next to me.

I heard a THUMP soon afterward.  Nurses and other phlebotomists came running toward the room where he was and I could hear them trying to revive him.

They asked him what was the matter.

He said he was diabetic.  After that, there was a lot of mumbling, so I couldn’t make out the rest of what was said.

My heart sank and sat in the pit of my stomach.  Knowing that could happen to my son was too much for me to bear.

And then I became angry at that man for not managing himself better.

But I gave him the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe he didn’t have health insurance and couldn’t afford to buy insulin and glucose strips for his meter.  Maybe he was so tired of trying that he just gave up.

I was angry at his health care providers for not seeing he was dying and admitting him in to the hospital sooner.

A lot of speculation ran through my head.  Who knows what his story was or who had made the attempt to help him.

But one thing was for sure, I refuse to let that be my son’s story.

He’s been getting on our elliptical to do cardio.  He started basketball practice and he wants to be able to run up and down the court with ease.

He told me the other night that he will do 15 minutes each night.  After he was through, he told me how many calories he burned.

I told him to try and burn more and more during each 15 minute session by playing around with the speed and resistance and then work on increasing the time.
He writes his progress on our calendar in the kitchen.

Every time I see him eating something, I ask if he has tested and dosed himself.

Sure, he gets annoyed at my nagging, but he’ll see that it will pay off in the end…I hope….as long as his body goes along with the plan.

He enjoys being physical and playing sports.  He’s got a tough road ahead of him, but as long as he has an enjoyable outlet to burn off some of that steam, it should make things a bit more bearable for him.

I just wanted to take a moment to give a shout out to my blog.  This is post #400 (no joke).  I plan to circulate all 400 posts over and over and over and over and over again so no one misses them.  It’s taken me over a year to write these and it takes up too much time to spend another year writing 400 more of them.  And don’t forget to vote for your favorite Bodyspacer.

OK, onto business……

This morning, my partner and I were getting set up to do leg presses.  There was a guy who was loading plates onto the high row machine next to us.

My partner excused herself and apologized to him for getting in his way.

He said, "Oh no.  I don’t want to get in YOUR way.  I see the two of you in here all the time and I just sit in awe at what you do.  You two are MACHINES."

And we were like, "AWWWW.  THANK Yoooouuuu!", in our high pitched, sweet, girly voices.  LMAO.

No matter how butch a woman is in the gym, some femininity slips out.

I see him all the time too and never thought he payed much attention.  He always seemed in the zone.  Ya never know who’s watching.

BTW, Christmas is coming up and I think this would make a great stocking stuffer for the men.  So if you have a man in your life, this baby works their:

Thyroids

Quadripeds

Gastropods

Wrists

Deltoids

and
Glucose

(Yes, this is a real product)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_kNHfa5kto

Every month I get these low energy days where it takes every ounce of my being just to get through a workout.  And I’m lucky if I make it through without coming down in weight or reps.

I promised long ago that I would not blog about my PMS since it happens every stupid month.   Neither snow nor rain not heat nor gloom of night stays these hormones from the swift completion of their sh*tty assed rounds.

So why complain about it.  I do point it out because that is the explanation for my sub-energized workouts.

Anyway, I could say, "Eh, I can skip this workout.  Why push it?  I’m doing good enough as it is."

With an attitude like that, you will get back what you put in.  Get it?

There was no pep in my step today.  There was no "Let’s get em and show em who’s boss" kind of attack in reference to the weights….I’m not one to intimidate the other gym members ;P

Was I motivated to workout?  NO.

Did I have the desire to workout?  NO.

Was I inspired to workout?  NO.

Well don’t you need one or more of those to get you off of your a** to get out and get the workout done?  NO.

What do you need then?

Commitment.

If you don’t have commitment to get the job done, then you won’t get it done.  There is nothing tying you to completing the job at all.

For those days when you don’t have motivation, desire, energy, or sparkle, commitment will be there to get you through it.

You don’t need to be in the "mood" for commitment to exist.  You can feel depressed, sad, lonely, weak, mean, nasty, heartbroken, PMSing and still have commitment.

If you don’t have commitment and you aren’t in the "mood" to get yourself through a workout, then you have a pile of fat, guilt, and self pity to weigh on you.

Make a commitment and you will get through anything at any time no matter what.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with the people who go to the gym in the mornings.  Everyone is so normal and they do nothing out of the ordinary or say anything interesting.  It’s pretty beat.

There is a guy though, who is the splitting image of Prince Harry.  I have seen him at the gym on a regular basis, but never thought about it until my gym partner pointed out the resemblance.

I said, "OMG, it’s totally the Prince and the Pauper.  He could take Harry’s place and no one would realize it."

Aaand CUT.

I clicked on one of the links in the linked story from my last blog and found this!  Now PLEASE don’t tell this woman about BB.com.  I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing her progress pics.

World’s Strongest Vagina Breaks Own Record

….she had so many children, her uterus fell out.  WHOA.

Remember that Andrew Dice Clay rhyme?  Well holy mother of holy sh*tness…..if this ever happened to me, I’d be a scared mess of a woman.

I don’t know if doing kegels could’ve prevented this from happening:

Woman’s vagina falls out along with everything else behind it.

Since joining this site, one thing I’ve noticed is that there are some women who start out on this site being very modest.

If they post pics at all, they’ll post pics in workout clothes, or bathing suits.

And then they start getting compliments and guess what happens.

"Oh!  You like my ass?  Well here’s an ass shot", as they plant the camera lense straight up their crack.

"Oh!  You think my ass is fine enough to wear a thong?", as they don thong after thong in all colors and embellishments.

"Oh!  My boobs look hot?", as they mount the camera to the ceiling and take a pic of their cleavage.

They start getting brave and post pictures that start becoming degrading.  Sure they’re free to post whatever they want.  But is posting compromising pictures in order to keep the compliments of strangers coming their way something that really raises their ego and makes them feel good?  Apparently so.

Wouldn’t they rather be complimented on the progress they’re making in losing weight and/or gaining muscle?

I suppose the attention they get can be addictive and they seem to go further and further to get it.  But, isn’t self respect a lot more appealing to have?

I’ve gotten PM’s telling me my ass looks hot and I should wear a thong to show it off.

A.  Thongs are THE most uncomfortable garment.

B.  I’m not going to dress in order to give you a boner.

Whatever pictures I post are to show either the progress I’ve made, or the progress I need to make.  It’s not to boost my self esteem by looking for ways to get compliments that reflect the horniness of the men giving them.

Believe me, I’ve gone to some of the profiles of guys I’ve seen giving "juicy" compliments to women and there’s no way I’d want any coming from them.  GROSS.