A day of rest

My weighted vest arrived yesterday. I went to bed last night, considering that I actually might not be going to the workout this morning, but still leaning more towards going. When I awoke this morning, around two hours before my alarm, I was almost certain I would not be going to the workout. I felt terrible, utterly exhausted. When my alarm later sounded, it was confirmed: I was going back to bed, because I needed some serious rest. I slept an extra three and a half hours before waking for real. I didn’t actually get up until another half hour later, listening to an audiobook as I lay curled on my side under the comforter, eyes closed.

I eventually got up and made breakfast, though. After eating, I went and unpacked the vest with delight. I was super excited. As soon as I unpacked it, I put it on and wore it around the house for a while. It was certainly heavy, and would take some major adjusting, if ever I were intending to run two miles with this thing. I’m still not sure that I’ll ever do it, but I’m not giving up the idea so easily. Slow and steady, were my thoughts. We still have time.

By 10:00, I was barely staying awake, however, and so I lay down comfortably on the floor… and passed out… hard. I woke only once, and fell right back asleep, adding yet another additional three hours to my sleep tank for the day. I really was wiped, I thought. I had needed this day of rest, for more than just resting my muscles – so much of me was tired. Last week and the weekend and start of this week had been, well, a lot. And being behind on sleep with all of that only made things harder, both then and now.

And so I truly rested today, swapping between a new book on the kindle – got the notification this morning that it was now available from the library! – and the audiobook on my phone (also from the library, of course), and even spent close to an hour just stretching while reading, and half an hour swinging on the front porch, despite the heat and humidity (once the mosquitos arrived, however, I was done sitting out there).

Around 5:00pm, I was unsure as to what to do. I had rested much today, but didn’t want to rest too much. I also didn’t want to exert myself when I actually just needed rest. But I could feel it within myself that I needed to move. Not intensely or hard, but truly to move. So, I donned the weighted vest, though only with 10lbs now, instead fo 20, and went on a long walk. Two and a half miles in the heat, I walked at a mostly brisk pace, experiencing moving with the vest on me. It was simultaneously rough and easy.

Now, it is 9:00pm, and I can hardly stand up, I am so sleepy and tired. Therefore, I bid you all a wonderful night. πŸ˜‰

P.S. Tomorrow is my anniversary of first beginning as a member at the gym. I had reached 55 workouts so far this calendar year yesterday, and so was comfortable not going today. Last year, at this point, I had done only 51 workouts. I still considered going at noon or in the afternoon today, just to round out the year’s total, but my body went into sleep mode for the noon class, and was too exhausted to fathom doing such work by late afternoon.

Post-a-day 2021

Gym

Remember how I mentioned that Katy Perry song last night, “Teenage Dream”? Well, guess what song played at the gym this morning! It was so fun to have that happen, especially considering how that song does not usually play at the gym – nothing of its genre, even. So, that was a delightful start to the day for me.

However, speaking of the gym, I totally cried during the workout today. We were doing these deltoid press-downs with stretchy bands looped over the pull-up bars. I had attempted my left arm first. I always ask which muscles are managing movements (if I am not already sure), so that I can do the movement correctly and at all. (I’ve definitely been unable to do something simply because I was using, say, my arm muscles, when it should have been shoulder and back muscles, and then it totally worked when I got the right muscle group going.)

But something just didn’t click for me this morning – I couldn’t make the band go down. As soon as I hit the point of the band’s genuine resistance, I just could not make it go any farther. And yet, that was hardly half the distance to my body. I looked around, and saw everyone else doing it with somewhat ease. I took a step closer to the bar, to lessen the tension on the band. And then another. And I still couldn’t get my arm all the way down to my body, as we were supposed to be doing – as everyone else was doing. I was bordering on tears… from embarrassment, perhaps? I was also quite low on my sleep from the past couple nights – nightmares had plagued Sunday night, giving me minimal rest then, and last night hadn’t been much more restful, though the nightmares had mostly all gone.

The coach saw me and told me to move away from the bar. I moved a bit, and he said with more emphasis and volume for me to move, suggesting that I needed to take a huge step away. And I did, but I was beginning to panic. It is not a comfortable feeling when the body does not do as we wish it to do for something that it, by all means, ought to be able to do. Nor is it comfortable to feel oneself beginning to cry over such a simple little movement in a gym workout.

But I reminded myself that I was behind on sleep, which always seems to affect my ability to remain calm and not crying in situations. And so, I struggled and mostly failed, and then switched to the right arm, just to see if it would be any different. The band went right down. It was easy like how I had seen everyone else doing it… So something is wrong with my left side, I thought. Even more stress.

I moved on to the other activity for that round, and aimed to take a mental breather from the fact that I was supposed to do that four more rounds, and yet I hadn’t even been able to do it one time out of the 20 repetitions with my left side.

When I returned for the start of my second round, I tried again, aiming truly to figure out if there were a way that I could do it, despite my body’s not being able to do it fully as intended. A modification would be fine, if I could find one. The coach saw me again, standing too close to the bar as I attempting the modification. The earlier process had repeated, and the taunting tears from before no longer taunted, but fell forth. He was immediately in front of me, standing very close, talking calmly and gently to me, asking me what was going on, what was happening in that moment. I told him that – after a solid ten seconds of being unable to speak, for my tears – I was frustrated because I couldn’t do it. He evaluated, looking to the bar where I was, and the bar I had used the first round. This one was higher, which increased the tension, he pointed out. And I said I hadn’t been able to do it before either. The bands, too, were new, and so were harder to use than the ones we had had until recently. I told him that it was just my left side that I just couldn’t seem to make do the movement. He aligned everything for me, adjusting exactly the angle of my arm and elbow, and altering my handhold to decrease resistance.

And then I did it. I was still crying and, even, shaking, somewhat, but now there was relief in my tears, not merely stress and embarrassment. And I did it again. And I kept going. I nodded, making it clear that I was okay to continue on my own now. Before he walked away, he said to me, “You don’t need to be frustrated. You’re doing f***ing pull-ups,” and it made me laugh through my tears. He was right, after all. I was crying from stress at a tiny movement that I hadn’t been able to do, thinking I was too weak – I could do it, now that he had helped me figure it out, so it hadn’t been that I was too weak at all. And yet, after the workout today, I did three pull-ups, and attempted a fourth five or so times (making it about 90-95% of the way up each time on that fourth), wanting to get in one more than I had done after yesterday’s workout. I most certainly was not too weak.

I took one deep breathe, let it go, and I was breathing fully and easily again. I’m sure my face and eyes were still rather cry-looking for a while after that, but everyone was busy working, so I doubt anyone else even noticed. By the time I started the next round, which I was able to do with ease – relative ease, that it, as it was still hard work, but I could do that hard work now – I was fully calm and focused. While doing my left side, the coach caught my eye from across the room and gave me a visual clapping with his hands (because it was meant to be seen and not heard – there was loud music playing, after all).

I smiled sheepishly, but with immense gratitude. He is always there to encourage us to push ourselves beyond mental barriers (But he is extremely careful to keep us always safe, especially regarding physical abilities. Once, he told me, after I had cried at some back squats, never to do something that actually scared me or made me uncomfortable, where I didn’t feel safe doing it. He wants us safe, but not lazy cowards. That’s why he pushes us.), but, if ever his push of encouragement does not land as intended, he is at our side to help us how specifically we need in that moment. There was no hesitation when I started crying this morning – he saw that something was not okay for me, and his full focus was on helping me clear up whatever it was. And he did exactly that. And today was just one of the many reasons that I love this gym and its owner (today’s coach). Both because of the ridiculous song choices for the morning and for his clear love and care for me when I hit a roadblock.

Post-a-day 2021

Interview stress?

Man, interviewing people can be utterly exhausting. I have to be on for the entire time that we are meeting with someone. Then, I have to be on in a different way as we discuss after the candidate’s departure. And then, I have to be on in order to discuss the candidate who is about to join us. And then, the cycle repeats itself. It results in a day full of being on… Fully.

And, boy, is that exhausting.

And it is even worse when the candidates themselves are exhausting human beings… could you just stop talking for a second? You are not helping yourself with this constant, roundabout, up-in-the-clouds, non-answer chatter. Frankly, you are annoying us all, and would do well just to shut your mouth for more than two seconds total.

-Hmm…, can you tell I was annoyed? πŸ˜› –

But what makes it, perhaps, the most exhausting, is the fact that it is all done sitting at a desk, looking at a computer screen. I’m not sure work gets more exhausting than that.

That is, for me, anyway…

Post-a-day 2021

^Held my breath for a second there

Sleep

I am tutoring in the morning at ten my time. It is currently 1:23am. Obviously, I am writing this and so am still awake. I was still exhausted today from lack of sufficient sleep two intense nights in a row, and my body is reacting even further tonight, with various little aches and pains resulting in my still being awake so late. **

So, I’ll go to sleep now.

**Somehow, I was just reminded of playing Rollercoaster Tycoon.

Post-a-day 2020

Bellyaching for sleep

Do you ever reach the point of being so tired that you feel like you might throw up? The body begins to collapse inward on itself, the stomach cavity begins to do a black hole kind of jig, and the esophagus begins to make itself known, deep down within the chest, as though in warning of the impending doom of a volcanic eruption brewing below the surface… this happens to me sometimes, when I am really, really in need of sleep. Not just an average long day here – an absurd kind of day, like a sleep of only a few hours, followed by a 20-hour day kind of day… like today… like right now.

The only remedy I have is to snuggle up under blankets and sleep as long as possible… which, really, makes perfect sense. You know, since my body is so exhausted in the first place, and the vomit feeling likely originates with that. πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2020

R(acc)oonmate Update (ish)

Warning: Gross stuff in this one.

….

Okay, well, the raccoons still live with me, but at least the maggots and their wretched stench are gone.

Yes, you read that correctly.

(At least, so long as you actually did read it correctly, including the part with the maggots, then you read t correctly…)

The live trap that I have had to check daily, and have checked usually twice a day, which has captured no raccoon – which I never much expected, seeing as how they all moved to the bathroom downstairs once the babies were born (at least, we think babies have been born, due to all the early morning chatter in the past couple weeks or so) – instead had its container of bait go from brown wet cat food to reddish-pink maggot mush, and stunk up the attic and, consequently, the stairway that leads into my room.

Fortunately, I was on the phone with my cousin when I discovered this, and asked her what to do, as I worked on not panicking too terribly.

She asked her mother and father, whose home she is still visiting, and my aunt quickly told me to carry the cage outdoors, dump the bait container into a plastic bag, seal the bag, drop bag in the outdoor trash bin, trip the trap, and leave it on the back outside porch to be retrieved by the company who set it and left it.

I kept them on speakerphone with the phone on my hip for moral support as I aimed desperately not to gag and hurl while bringing the whole thing down two flights of bendy staircases, and then another staircase outside to the ground, and followed the instructions of my aunt.

I dare say that, if I’d not been managing my own desperate desire to panic and cry, I would have come up with the same solution, so I was quite willing to follow the instructions.

Unfortunately, I had to jimmy a makeshift air funnel to clear out the space, since there’s only one tiny widow that even goes to outdoors up here, and so that was tough to arrange.

However, I was gone doing study buddy work with a friend of mine for a few hours, so I didn’t have to be here while it did the bulk of air clearing out.

Now, sitting on my bed, longing for sleep, I am nervous to turn off all the fans, for fear of the germs and smell that might still be lingering – eeeeeeww!!!!! – but am so sick and tired (yes, I actually have come down with a rather terrible cold today – the dry and painful kind that just make everything hurt and clog the back of the nose, but don’t provide the relief of a runny nose’s nose blow from a wet cold), I want to go to sleep.

Perhaps I’ll leave it all as-is, and go to sleep anyway… if I get too cold later, I’ll swap the fan nearest me with the heater (only one outlet over here, you see, and no central air option).

Yes, I think that is my plan now.

Ow… my body and head and throat hurt.

Goodnight, folks.

Post-a-day 2019

Stuck in the middle with … George

And just when it is prime time to kick things into high gear, and speed into overtime, humanity hits…., and you end up exhausted and barely able to get yourself off the floor to go shower and get in a bed…

Sometimes, like in that movie where the girl passes out on her wedding day from it, menstruation just plain sucks at timing…

Or, perhaps, the world synched up with my body to force me into taking a bit of a break, into taking things slowly for a couple days, so I would chill out and refresh myself a bit…

Perhaps…

P.S. My childhood best friend and her girlfriends shared with me in middle school how they used the name George to reference menstruation – Have you seen George lately? (I think you might be leaking.), George said you had something for me? (Do you have a pad or tampon?), etc.

Post-a-day 2019

Bedtime routine…

I wanted to go read, because I didn’t want to think about what to write…,

But then I thought about how I would be thinking all along in the back of my mind about things I could use for writing, as well as maintaining that semi-constant reminder that also resides back there to make sure I write before I go to bed…

And so I came and sat down on my magical handmade chair… thing – I think it’s possibly a stool, technically, and “magical” just felt right, because it is special to me, not because it is a regular Hermione Granger or anything of the sort – and picked up the little phone – “little” being totally relative, because it is definitely not Zoolander sized, but it also is loads smaller than the first many versions of phones, as well as the most recent iPad-type mobile phones – here to write something…

Apparently this is what I ended up writing for tonight – and “For Tonight” is the name of a musical that is about to have its world premier here in Houston(!)… πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

School

I have to give a 20-minute presentation tomorrow on a 15-20-page paper I haven’t yet written, the research for which I have only just tonight begun reading… and had to stop reading, because money (aka real) work last night went so late that I didn’t get enough sleep to be at a level of quality functioning today…

I imagine I’ll manage something decent for the presentation, but ugh, this being exhausted so often and having to do work I don’t particularly want to do is just really exhausting. πŸ˜›

No wonder I feel ill.

P.S. I am a long-time procrastinator, so the last-minute work is nothing new – just the exhaustion from other stresses and whatnot combined with the procrastination is new and stressful.

Post-a-day 2018