The Trouble With Balls.

I've been taking it easy this past week at the gym. I don't know how I jacked up my shoulders and neck muscle, but I did. The culprit, I suspect is sleep. The one drawback to using Ambien is that I sleep a little too well. More to the point, I think I sleep too hard. The rub here being that when I used to toss and turn and sleep for only a couple of hours at a time, I didn't have time to lean too hard into my shoulder and twist it. Now I wake up rested but with this dull pain that lasts most of the day. I'm sure stress at work isn't helping, either. I suppose I may have to bite the bullet and see a doctor about it, but as much as I like to effects, I want to avoid being prescribed a muscle relaxant. My local pharmacy knows me well enough as it is. Sleep-deprived, depressed, anxious...do I really need them to add "tense" to the list?

In any event, taking a week off from the usual routine was rough. I skipped a week of both my Pilates and chisel classes. Oh, I wasn't a total slug - I ran the treadmill and ellipitical and burned plenty of calories in place of the toning excerises. But I could totally feel the difference. So when the Princess said she was free for chisel tonight, I took it as a sign from above that I needed to go. Actually, the excerises tha stretched my shoulder muscles felt really good. I think they helped more than a little. The ab workouts, on the other hand were pure torture. Not having really worked them for a week left my midsection looking doughy and unwilling to comply with the instructor's insistence to "engage." If pain were currency, my abs would be buying me ahouse right now. (Of course, we all know this means I have to go to Pilates tomorrow night and get the muscles to conform. Luckily, I can ask my teacher to modify the upper body stuff to keep me from hurting myself and/or swearing loudly in the middle of class.)

The most painful routine tonight was where we had to hold an exercise ball (much like the one atop this very post) with our feet and lift our legs while holding our upper body in sit-up position. After 15 reps, I was ready to give up every secret I'd ever been told and a few I wasn't even sure of. Then she announced we could take a half-second breather (yes, I'm exaggerating) and then do another 15. Bakground: last year, I had a major freakout on a ferris wheel when I realized it would be going around a second time and I wouldn't be able to get out of the moving cage of death I was in until we'd spun around one more time. I wasn't medicated then, so my freakout tonight was definitely more internal and involved no screaming or swearing. But inside, it was pretty much the same.

I soldiered through and promptly collapsed on my couch upon arriving home. In a downpour like there was tonight, I could tell the difference between my sweat and the rain. The sweat was hot and painful, like little reminders of my masochism. The rain drops were blessedly cold and numbing, helping me remember that one day I'd be dead and free of the pain of abs and body dysmorphia. Crap - another condition to add to the list. Oh well, I felt a lot better after eating my salad and watching some mindless TV. And when annual trip to San Francisco with FB & The Princess comes in May, I won't remember this pain. I'll be too busy stuffing my face with clam chowder and checking out all of the hot guys looking at my ass.

At least, that's what I tell myself to justify the $45 a month.

-J.

This post was sponsored by the No Gain Committee.