Tag Archives: gym

Middle Aged Crossfit Failure

 

My husband is a big Groupon fan. The man loves to save money. He is always buying some sort of package deal.  A couple of weeks ago he bought a Groupon for 10 “Functional Fitness” classes at our local Crossfit gym. If you are not familiar with Crossfit, it is a meathead weight lifting and gymnastics combo for the truly insane. That is the official definition.  Anyway, these classes were supposed to be for beginners. So, I went along with the husband.  After all, we know a couple of people who LOVE Crossfit.  Here is how it worked out for me.

Day One – I breeze through my first ever Crossfit class at 44 years old. Well, I didn’t BREEZE through it exactly.  I got a touch out of breath during the burpees, and those butterfly leg, arms all the way up sit ups were no picnic. My couch pouch kept getting in the way. But I did it. I did the whole half hour class. Thirty solid minutes of sweating. I didn’t cheat with the lunges, either, even when the instructor was not looking.

As soon as I got home, I took a shower to get the gym floor dirt off of me. Did I mention the burpees? I pretty much ate the floor during those. So, I also did three loads of laundry to get the gym off of my clothes, carrying the full basket up and down the stairs with minimal tenderness in my thighs. I thought I was a warrior.

Day Two – I notice something different as soon as I get out of bed. I am walking like a brand new porn star who just filmed a gang bang flick using no lube. Walking is tough, but sitting on the toilet is impossible. I put both hands on the toilet seat and gingerly lower myself to a seated position while crossing my eyes and saying “Holy mother of fuck!”

Getting up from the toilet requires a firm hold of the door knob. I vow to myself that I will not leave the house until this pain goes away. I DO NOT want to have to touch the toilet or doorknob in a public bathroom, and with my IBS it would be a necessity at some point. I work from home so it’s doable to just not leave the house for a bit. Plus, it should only take a day or so for this soreness to go away, right? I am not a complete couch potato. I exercise a few times a week. I shouldn’t be sore for that long.

I try two Motrin with breakfast. Nothing. So, I use that “Deep Blue” essential oil I bought back when I was a sucker. I toss it in the trash as I actually feel WORSE after applying it.  Fucking snake oil.

By the end of the day, I am so tired of being in pain that I go into the bathroom and take a Tylenol #3 leftover from a dental procedure last year. I might as well have taken a Sweet Tart.  It’s like a placebo. I follow it up with vodka at dinner. Still no pain relief. I stop myself at two drinks because I don’t want to be that woman who dies from mixing a pain pill and vodka while trying to walk normally again.

Day Three – Before I get out of bed, I think that my pain should probably be better now. This is proven incorrect as soon as I move. It’s been a couple of days, right? Really?! Really?! I almost fall while getting out of bed. Walking is still challenging, and I still have to go up and down stairs while clinging to the rail and using all of my arm strength to stabilize my useless quads. Now, just to add to the fun, my lower abs and whatever those muscles are on the side of your boobs have started to hurt like a fothermucker, too.

I hobble around the house, cursing Groupon, my husband, Crossfit, and especially myself every time I have to go upstairs, which is too often. It seems like it hurts worse today than yesterday. This is just cruel. Who are these people who do Crossfit regularly? I pour myself a big glass of wine right at 5:00. It does nothing.

Day Four – My right leg is slightly better, but my left still bites me when I move. I take a hot bath, so hot that I sweat, and put Biofreeze on my thighs as soon as I get out. This makes me feel 20% better for like 30 minutes. Go me.

I finally give in and do a Google search for “horrible never-ending pain after Crossfit.” My results tell me to drink more water and “stretch it out.” Because water cures everything, right? I give the one finger salute to the computer screen and start gulping water. The only thing this does is make me have to pee even more often than I do already. So, this means I have to get on and off the toilet more often. Have I mentioned how much I hate the world right now?

Day Five – I’m finally able to sit on the toilet this morning without frantically gripping the seat and lowering myself like an 80 year-old nursing home patient. I call that a win.  It is still hell to walk down the drive way to retrieve the recycling bins, but I get it done. I got down the stairs without doing the sideways crab walk and clinging to the rail with both hands. I only had to cling with one hand. I got more than 1,000 steps in on my Fitbit. My “FUCK!” count is way down. It’s a miracle. I finally feel like I may live.

So, I paid $45 for ten classes and only used one. My husband keeps saying he is going to do another class even though he was in the same amount of pain I was in. I will never go back. I would rather say goodbye to the remainder of my $45 than pay thousands of dollars for surgery and rehabilitation after being carried out of Crossfit on a stretcher.

What about you? Are you a Crossfitter, a couch potato, or somewhere in the middle? Let me hear from you in the comment section.

 

Gen Xaerobics

I’m only allowed to give myself concerts on the elliptical for 20 minutes at a time or my ankle will start to hurt.  It’s been four months since I hurt my tendon and began a series of Lemony Snicket-worthy unfortunate events.  If you haven’t been following my award-winning (I use the term loosely) blog, don’t worry; I have links.

Oh Pity Poor Me

The Six Ways I Almost Died

My Grown Up Tantrums

Awesome Things About Having A DVT

You can read all about my mobility woes, or I can give you the “That’s what you missed on Glee” summary version.  Here it is:

I fell down some stairs backwards, while trying to save my cat from eating electrical cords.  Then, I ignored the pain and exercised and walked on my injured ankle for two weeks because I’m tough like that.  When the pain was too much, I went to an awesome foot and ankle doctor who gave me a removable boot cast to wear.  Because of the injury and immobility, along with the estrogen from birth control pills, Santa brought me a DVT for Christmas.  My husband gave me shots in the stomach, and I’ve been taking Coumadin (AKA rat poison) for almost 3 months. And that is what you missed about me.

So, I should mention that this is the first time in my nice, safe, sedentary life that I have injured myself.  I should also mention that I would like to lose 20 pounds and I would like to be less sedentary. Through all of this, I have learned a thing or two about moving in a way that won’t cause injury to my not quite 27 year-old joints and tendons. I’ve also learned that I am only motivated to exercise when I am listening to 80’s music.   So, as a self-titled subject expert on all things injury, blood clot, and Depeche Mode, I’ve decided to design my own aerobics class as I have hated every group gym class I have ever taken.   Here is my very basic plan for Gen Xaerobics:

1.  There would be no club/dance music.  Electronic beats and nasally females singing about the beats of their hearts do not motivate me to exercise; neither does Latin music.  This is probably because it was shoved down my throat a lot, along with key lime pie, another dislike, during my childhood and young adulthood in South Florida.   This type of music motivates me to stuff foreign objects in my ears to drown out the noise.  So, we would only have 80’s rock music in my Gen Xaerobics class.  Of course, during the “cool down” portion of the class, we would need to move on to some good, slow 80’s British pop.  We would always, always end the class with King of Pain. It just fits, you know?

2. We would limit our moves to NON-impact only.  There would be no jumping, running, or jogging, just some good old-fashioned Elaine from Seinfeld dance action.  The kick would be optional depending on each person’s balance.  Break-dancing, while popular in the 80’s, would be discouraged to avoid dislocated joints, tendon injuries, and bad music.

3. Unlike most gym classes, singing would be encouraged. Prizes would be given to the person who knows all of the words, even if a group of stray dogs gathers at the door of the gym to howl in agony at the singer’s vocal range.  I’m talking about myself here.

4. Everyone would need to wear neon unitards with clashing leg warmers.   High-top white Reeboks would be optional.

Let’s face it.  As Gen Xers, we need exercise that won’t pop our tendons or leave us permanently hunched over. We need to be able to listen to Duran Duran without feeling guilty, or without reminiscing about all the people we didn’t date high school, or some of the one’s we did. I’m talking about you, Ducky.  So, let’s make Gen Xaeorbics a reality.   Who is with me?