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Tuesday, March 26, 2002 14:43
Five years ago I was a four stone apology. Now I'm two separate gorillas.Last night's gym session was piss poor, I have to say. I've never been during my period before. I get pretty heavy, chunky periods (did you really want to know that?) and so I get quite anaemic at that time of the month. Usually I stay home with a cup of tea and demand that Frood feeds me splifs on demand and Booze Monkey does his thing (you know, we could Google bomb that, harmless enough). I hadn't been in a couple of weeks, though, so I decided that last night I would go anyway. Life has been getting in the way, so to speak. I can't remember why last weekend - oh, that's right. We had the lek, and Maura was still over. Hardly ever get to see Maura, so I wasn't going to pass up any opportunity to spend time with her. My current programme is quite tough, though not as tough as it could be. I've gone from doing mostly machines to doing mostly free weights, and the whole programme, which I am currently trying to work out how to split sensibly, goes something like:
Then you add to that the ride home (around 10 miles-ish). I've started keeping weekly mileages as well, but, like I said in the rants, I'll probably stick up a whole training section once I've fixed those pages in the hippyshit section. There's not a lot out there for the woman who wants to do weights but doesn't want to be superwoman or She-Ra, Princess of Wombyn Powah (actually, in the terms of those proponents of the matriarchal golden age, that would probably be She-Isis, or She-Bast if she were on the blob). Anyway. Last night I only managed about half of that, and then I had to call it quits and go home. I still have this really bizarre attitude that if Andy is lifting more than me then I am doing something wrong. I can't seem to get it into my head that he is almost twice my size and therefore is going to be able to lift more than me simply because he has to live with more weight than me. The male/female distinction is not something with which my gut has come to terms, and my head can't get to grips with the idea that men are going to be stronger than me. It's not fair, they shouldn't be. More work, must lift more. The weights I'm doing at the moment just seem so weedy and pathetic. Sigh. Sometimes being an over-achiever really sucks. But the fact that Andy can bench more than me pisses me off more than is reasonable, it really does. More power! More iron! I'm still about the only female in that gym doing anything that requires real iron rather than those silly little pink neoprene dumbells (spit spit ptooey!) And even I find the calf machine dull no matter how much weight I stick on there. Back on Thursday then. And, incidentally, I made it onto the EPO National Recruitment short list. So I may not be around tomorrow. I have to attend an assessment centre. Yes. I'm pleased (understatement of the year). I really, really want this. I want it so badly my teeth hurt.
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