Still, my skin is really really dry, fissures are forming on my finger tips again, and maybe inside one of my nostrils. Considering the fact that it's allergy season and my nose seems to be always running, that little abrasion has been painfully annoying. Dabbing petrolatum on it doesn't seem to help as much as I'd like.
I even slathered myself in cream yesterday, hoping to alleviate the itchiness that develops when I'm doing cardio and my body hasn't reached critical temp yet. People who suffer from ichthyosis vulgaris (a genetic skin protein disorder) often have trouble regulating their body temperature. Some find it difficult to sweat due to either a lack of sweat glands, or skin adhesions blocking the sweat pores. I just need to reach a certain internal temperature and then the floodgates open and I'm drenched, but until then, my skin is pin-prick itchy all over and only scratching or dousing myself with water offers any relief. There's no way I'm pouring water on myself while pedaling cardio machines, so I'm usually scratching my head, back, arms... until I start sweating. And then I feel so much better.
My cardio wasn't the best today. But my pull-ups were better. I have no idea why. The gym was moderately crowded but that's to be expected on a bleary Monday. When I enter the Aerobics Room, I'm greeted by a monstrously large flat screen affixed above the mirrored wall. It's where the analog clock used to hang. That's been relegated 90 degrees away to the adjacent mirrored wall.
The screen is active with images of people exercising and apparently talking, but there's no sound. Of course, I also have my earbuds in, but I can still hear ambient noises if they're loud enough. I assume this is for some new classes the gym is going to offer. They've instituted a tiered fee system for members who want to take classes. That's not me: I'm perfectly content to do my own thing at my own pace to my own music.
Everything feels routine, except that I'm tired, and push-ups feel harder than they should be. Weird, right? Especially considering that nothing I've done today should impact the muscles involved in push-ups: no triceps, no pectorals, not much core except for the dead bugs... I dunno. It's a mystery. Tomorrow I'm hoping to push some weights but no promises.
Working through a Lady Gaga earworm stuck in my head. It's not even the latest song, Abracadabra. It's the earlier Disease. I don't really have the vocabulary to identify what exactly has hooked my brain, but it's just a few notes at the beginning of the song that literally sends a tingle down my spine...That's the same sensation I get from that distinctive trill that the late Dolores O' Riordan (The Cranberries) sings in the haunting Zombie. I think the term is called keening, or yodeling. And the late Sinead O' Connor also used this style. I guess that's very Irish. It's sad, these beautiful voices quiet now. At least we have their recordings so they won't be forgotten.
