Teen TRX and Moaners at the Gym

We signed my 16 year old up for TRX this summer.

It was a class offered at our gym and is exclusively for teens.  It meets Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays in the afternoons.

I figured this would serve a couple purposes.  First,  it would get him out of the stink chair he has claimed in front of the  XBOX.

Second,  I thought it would keep him in shape over the summer.  For those of you who have done TRX workouts know they can about kill you if you let them.

Here is an overview video of TRX.  These bitches ladies make it look crazy easy.    It's hard freaking work.

As I was looking for a video to share with you, I found several videos from Mr. Universe, 2009, who does some uber sick moves with the TRX straps to make him look like the Incredible Hulk.

I personally do not find this look attractive.  Personally, I like men who are subtlety muscled.  The ripped look makes me think "seedy" and "oily."   But if you look up "Mr. Universe 2009 TRX," on YouTube, you can see what this workout will make of you if you take it to the extreme.

Today when I dropped him off at TRX, I decided to stay.

I hadn't exercised today and my dinner last night of hushpuppies, chicken nuggets and shame still sat in my belly from last night.

Oh yea, as well as my lunch from Taco Hell, which BY THE WAY which still rumbled like a thundercloud, releasing gaseous waste products that begged to be expelled from my ass.

Not the best idea to go to the gym and get on the treadmill.

I hopped on the treadmill with the best of intentions and since the cardio room was practically empty, I burped and eek out a couple of unladylike farts.  

I was feeling miserable, but I had an entire 50 minutes to kill while Cal was in class, and there was NO WAY I was getting in my car and going home.  Three miles was my goal.  But I was starting to get a stomach ache, and I was starting to feel like there was something more substantive coming behind the toots.

Then a groaner hopped on the treadmill next to me.  I looked around the room and there were NO MORE machines being used.  She got on the one DIRECTLY next to me.  WHY?  Seriously?  I know there are urinal rules;  shouldn't there be treadmill rules too?

The treadmill next to me was a crappy one.  Perhaps she wanted to watch the show on the television in front of it.  I don't know.  What I DID know was that she was in my space and HER weird noises were rudely moving in on MY weird noises.

She was cramping my style.

And I was having serious issues.  I was at about 1.25 and I was hurting, yo.

My shirt was riding up.  I had a wedgie.  I couldn't hold my belly in like I usually do to give the illusion a smaller waistline.

No.

Everything was hanging out and I didn't have the wear-withall to hold myself together.  And she was directly next to me, moaning...and one time said "Oh, YEAAAAAA."

What the frick was this?  The honeymoon  suite?

A mile an a half was all I could take.  I pushed the emergency stop, gathered my belongings and hustled quickly to the elevator.

Yes, my gym has an elevator.  AND stairs.  But I would have to walk past the front desk to get to the stairs.  And there was a desperate look to me.

I took the elevator up to the more private bathrooms which were, mercifully, unoccupied.

I gathered my belongings again, took the elevator back down ~ feeling like a NEW WOMAN, I cannot lie ~ and dropped my belongings next to the moaner.  I hopped back on and did another 1.5....which met my goal of 3 miles.

It was a rough 3 miles.  A little painful.  I won't eat pintos and cheese and a burrito supreme again before I try to jog again, I think.

Just a little life lesson that I will file away for a rainy day.

The Usual Topic of Poop and Couch to 5K

I have speculated before about how horrible a bowel attack would be during an outdoor jog.

(It just occurred to me that I talk about poop a lot in my blog...as in: I must seem a bit pre-occupied with the topic. Just to refer to me as the "girl who is obsessed with bowel movements." I'm okay with that.)

It has never happened to me before ,but today I was moved to tears, a cold sweat, and a full blown sprint at a speed I never believed I could achieve.

A few years ago I remember listening to a morning show in which the discussion led to bowel attacks while driving.

This has happened to everyone, I am quite certain of it. It is a horrible feeling to be trapped in traffic and have to go to the bathroom. You begin to outweigh the pros and cons of actually crapping your pants and the messy consequences that this action would ultimately result in.

"You can take an nonreligious person," the talk show host said, "and put them in a car with an impending bout of diarrhea. Suddenly, the person starts crying out, 'Awwwwwww, Jesus! Jesus, pullllllleeeeeeeeeeeasssse help me!'"

Although I am what one would call a "religious person," my desperate repertoire included a few "help me, Gods" and a lot of "awwwwwww, f**k me's!"

These phrases quickly became a pathetic mantra, if you will.

I began the Couch to 5K program about six weeks ago.

I am currently on day one of week six and have gained weight. (That is a gripe for another day.)

Today's workout involved the the five minute warm-up walk, followed by five minutes of jogging, three minutes of walking, eight minutes of jogging, a three minute walk, five minute jog, and finally a five minute cool down walk.

I got pretty far from home by the time the first twinges hit me. My stomach boiled, gurgled. I began to panic.

I cursed myself for venturing so far from my house.

The situation deteriorated quickly. I began to assess the trees around me...and the brush began to look pretty good. But by this time, my house was in distant view and I believed I could make it. It would result in much angst, but I could do it.

I broke into a crazy sprint and cut across a busy road. I bound through my backyard and flung open the door.

My startled kids looked at me with concern. "Mom, are you okay," one asked as I barrelled past them towards the master bathroom.

The door was locked.

Expletives followed.

I suppose it wasn't so surprising that the door was locked as it often is due to the fact that the two year old has a new fascination with bathrooms and toilet paper. She has been known to splash around in and throw toys into the toilet.

I fumbled with the key, kicked open the door and tore into bathroom.

I vowed to never run outside again ~ we have a gym membership, for goodness sake. I can exercise in air conditioned relative comfort with a wall of televisions in front of me.

I suppose I didn't truly finish my first day of week six of my Couch to 5K program, so I suppose I will have to do a do-over.

On a treadmill.

At the gym.

With a bathroom in view.

Today's experience stuck a chord primal fear in me that will take quite some time to overcome.