Steps toward spiraling

I started the day with sore arms and shoulders. The second day is always the worst! they keep saying.

I went to work and moved computers and monitors and all of that around. I winced when I opened doors with my arms.

My legs, however, felt fine! Which, I’m not surprised but I kinda am surprised. Because my legs hurt while doing the leg stuff. It’s hard and it hurts. But I seem to recover quicker with the leg stuff now than I did when I started. Which is good!

I somehow found myself, again, feeling grumpy later in the afternoon. I’m not sure why. Unless it’s just the PMS. It’s likely just the PMS. Nothing is happening during the day, really.

But I went to the gym and I told Tyler that I was grumpy and he asked how I was feeling and I told him and we started out doing leg stuff.

I did these things on a machine where I squat down with the weight bar on my shoulder and then push it all back up. I don’t know the names of the machines. Which is fine. But it was hard and a few times it felt like I was going to get stuck in the squat position and then nope, I’d somehow push back up. I think he may have helped me a few times but not many.

Then, lunges. Classic lunges. Down deeper, lower!

Then I had to step up and down off a high platform. We started me out with my left leg for the second reps since I’m mostly a right sided person. When I start off with the left leg, it all feels wrong. So we have to train my body to be able to push off with both sides. Because on a long hike we don’t want to wear out my right side, do we? No. I never thought of that. But it’s a very good point. So I did that.

And I had to do those leg curl things on the machine where you lay down and put the bar behind your knees. I did that with 25 pounds, then 35, then 45. The 45 was a killer but I got through 8 before I had to start up my grunting. Oh, the grunting. Who would have thought I’d be a gym grunter?!

Anyway, my legs felt weak after each rep and all of that. But sitting here now? My legs feel fine. My legs are showing progress and that is really nice.

After doing these reps I was feeling really good. My mood had improved and I felt grand.

Then? We moved on the arm stuff.

The first set of the me pushing the weights forward with my arms on the machine was ok. No weight on there. Just the weight of the machine itself which, I believe, is 7 pounds. And it was fine.

Then I had to bend over and pull a bar up to my chest with weight on the ends. I didn’t note the amount of the weight. But this motion was easy for me. I can do this one without any issue.

Then we did bicep curls. It’s a bit harder, but I did it.

Then I had to push it over my head. This is really difficult but I got through the first 10 on my own just fine.

Then back to the machine to push the weight forward. He added weight. This made it harder. I tried my damnedest. I really, really did. I did, maybe, five on my own? And those were really hard.

Then he asked how the bar weight reps were and I told him. So he reversed the order. I got through the over the head mostly on my own. I got through the bicep curls totally on my own. I got through the other one just fine.

Back to the machine for the final round. I barely got through four good ones on my own. And I damn near cried right then and there. I started beating myself up in my mind. I got angry.

He had to help me pushing the bar weight over my head. I did the bicep curls on my own and the other one without issue.

At that point I was disgusted with myself and asked him what I could do on my own to help these damned useless arms of mine along. I told him I had weights at home and he gave me some things to do on my own and he told me he was very impressed that I was that motivated.

He has no idea what my brain was saying to me at that point. But it wasn’t pretty. And it wasn’t that I was proud of myself. At all.

We went and did a bunch of crunches and then it was over.

He told me it was a good job and I think he meant it. But I’m not buying it. Or, well, I wasn’t buying it.

I really am just so fucking angry at myself for being so lazy all that time. For not realizing that I was creating a mess. For listening to other people when they would argue with me when I would indicate what was true: I am lazy, I don’t take care of myself, and I need to do something about  it. People would just take a look at my appearance and assume that I was just exaggerating or something. And I knew the truth and I looked the other way through other people’s eyes. And now I am pissed.

I’m proud of myself right now, hours later. Because I didn’t quit and I asked for ways to make it better and I really did try my best, my hardest. I didn’t give up. I wanted to. Oh, you bet your ass I wanted to. But I didn’t. So for that I am proud. I am proud that I’m being honest with myself and with others, whether they want to hear me or not. I am proud of myself. I’m proud of myself for trying to reschedule next Tuesday’s appointment for Wednesday, after I spend a day on a plane.

I’m still angry at the moment. But at least I’m also proud of myself on top of it.

My arms will not be the end of me.

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