Born Again Gym Rat: Aw Heck...

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Aw Heck...

I never quite trust myself, especially since I tend to find loopholes and worm my way through them. This morning, my hands didn't hurt at all and I decided that I'd whack the Nexersys after all, just not the one on the Left. It's not worth bruising the bones in my hands just to get some nice scores. I don't have that issue with the Right machine, the one with the non-functional Power Dig sensor. But since I don't really care about the scores (not really), then I'm better off using the other machine.

I do my warm up exercises and drop all my gear in front of my chosen machine. The only thing I can't fix is the glare. Even though it's earlier in the day, the glare is still problematic on both machines. I find myself ducking and bending oddly just to get a clear view of the screen. Ugh. However, I have a great workout and thoroughly enjoy myself. I can't figure out why the machines still think we're in May, and not quite sure what the Sparring program's arbitrary points mean... are those the blows it thinks I should be taking? I’ve easily surpassed those goals by nearly half.

I know I'm not going to whack the machine for a few weeks, not just because it's strenuous, but also because the punches can be a bit jarring. Some of those strikes actually transmit back through my arms and into my body, neck and head. The Left machine is worse in this aspect because the pads are so much stiffer. I can feel a good Cross rebound in the back of my skull. That’s probably not a good thing, so I’m pretty much done with the rehabbed Nexersys. I’ll just stick with the broken one.

There are a few regulars in the weight area, like The Mayor and Little R. Sometimes I see them in the parking lot or grocery, but I pretend I don’t see them. Because it’d be too weird to acknowledge someone outside of the gym, but totally ignore them inside. I don’t have that issue with women, but men are different. As much as I’d like to believe that we can all be friends, it’s the rare exception, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been wrong. How many times I’ve chatted with a guy as a friend, and how many times the guy had totally different intentions, or fears. Even Big R, as sweet as he was, had this underlying fear that we were attracted to each other. Nevermind the impossible logistics, or the fact that we never ever had a suggestive conversation ever.

So, I basically ignore guys unless they’re proven friends. Of course, sometimes that just leads to teasing. My hub’s friend looked at my feet the other day and asked if I was wearing cowboy boots. I replied, “Yeah, Ariart Fat Baby’s.” Because that’s what they are. He said, “Those are so cute. They’re so little. They remind me of Woody’s girlfriend in Toy Story.” What?! My footwear reminds him of Jessie the cowgirl doll? I suppose it could’ve been worse...

Tomorrow I have to be at the hospital at 8 am. My girlfriend will drive me there, and back because I’ll probably be in a lot of pain. My glaucoma docs says it shouldn’t hurt, but I recall having a metal cinder imbedded in my cornea in HS. It hurt like hell. Just a tiny speck that blew into my eye, and had to be removed by my dad’s doc friend. It seemed to hurt worse after he removed it. Wearing a big bandage over half my face, with my eyeball throbbing, and my dad taking me to the Playboy Club for lunch didn’t help at all. Because my parents used to do all sorts of ridiculously inappropriate things. Seriously. They were terrible role models. But of course, I thank my father for my ridiculously good vision (not really needing glasses at age 58), and my mom for my glaucoma.

Never mind that the doc says I’m going to need glasses after cataract surgery because I’ll be one of the few people that does not get improved vision with lens replacement. Hell, there’s nothing wrong with my lenses. Ugh. I’m having this surgery with extreme reluctance. At least I’ll still have my right eye, the good eye with better vision. I’m not planning surgery for that one just yet.

Whacky Tuesday