Surprise, Surprise, Surprise!

Yes, perhaps I'm having a Gomer Pyle moment, for those of you old enough to remember Jim Nabor's goofy but lovable Marine. I watched a lot of television as a child, but I think we all did. Yesterday was an absolutely perfect day for yard work. Well, compared to days before and after, it was the best day with moderate temps and zero humidity other than what I perspired. Mindful of all the bitey insects that live in my neighborhood, like brand new species of ticks and the requisite horse flies, deer flies, mosquitoes, gnats and thrips, I covered myself from head to toe with protection.

I wear knee high fabric boots year round when walking my dog. They're not quite as waterproof (or winter-proof) as advertised, but I can get them up my big calves. Long pants tucked in, an oversized Buzz Off® button down shirt over my tank top, safety glasses and a Buzz Off cap, complete with side drapes reminiscent of the French Foreign Legion. All liberally sprayed with picaridin which has a pleasant fruity scent compared to DEET sprays. (I got the Buzz Off clothes from LLBean years ago, but these items are no longer available from either the Buzz Off company or LLBean.)

I also wear leather gloves to protect my hands. The weed wacking goes well until I run out of string and have to replace the spool. Luckily, I'd purchased a package of replacement string (really plastic cordage) when I got the weed wacker. What I really needed was a full face-shield since I got winged by flying plant debris as I whacked. Perhaps plant debris is too soft a word. Bits of woody stem is what I really meant. I have to unstick the nylon string a few times and I take frequent breaks because I'm sweating profusely. It's 80F and the sun is blazing, and I'm fully clothed with boots, hat and leather gloves. Once past the wood pile, I move gingerly to avoid the shiny three-leaf plants close to the ground. Is that poison ivy or just something that looks like it?

The overgrown wineberries are another matter altogether! Their thick thorns make me wield the weed wacker like a machete, hacking through the tough vines and foliage. And then I see them, flying low to the ground, exiting and entering what looks like a small rotted tree stump. Shiny, yellow and black, and totally oblivious to me. Yellowjackets! Surprise! Okay, that's my cue to stop. No harm, no foul. We've had many wasp nests in the yard over the years and have never been stung. Don't plan to tempt fate now.

My hands are sore from 3 hours of weed whacking, but not as sore as the back of my shoulders. Trying to pinpoint specific muscles gets me as far as rhomboids. I have never been sore there before! It must be all those pull ups I did on Wednesday, and I'm surprised, because I really thought it'd be my lats and forearms. Well, they're sore too, but not as much as right behind the armpits. That's new!

Today I waffled between whacking the Nexersys and doing something, anything else. Whacking the machine won. Because my son and hubs come back on Sunday. So today's my last solo gym day until a week in August when they both go off to a Scout camp upstate. I do my usual warm ups and wrap my hands while sitting in front of the right side machine, the one with the dead Power Dig and funky Cross. Since I haven't done this in over a month, I'm easing back into it by only doing some Beginner Follow Me rounds. No Sparring. No Intermediate rounds. But I do 7 rounds, and I'm sweating and panting by the end of the session. My endurance is crap! And the glare on the screen from the windows hasn't gotten any better.

I'm also too quick for the Jab/Cross combination and the machine doesn't register my Cross half the time. Nothing more frustrating than having to pause for a split second just so the machine can catch up. Of course, there are other combos where the machine blithely skips over the first blow and immediately flashes the 2nd, so you're constantly trailing by a second. This does wonders for the Accuracy score. But I don't really care about that although I take a quick photo.

What I care about is how many pull ups can I do afterwards. Not immediately afterwards, as I still have to unwrap my hands and stretch out a tiny bit. I'm also feeling a little guilty about not doing any core since Wednesday so I knock out some quick bicycles and crunches in the classroom. My hands are tired and sore. I feel a bit weird too. Maybe low blood sugar? I had coffee and a yogurt before I left the house so I don't think it's that.

Doing a series of pull ups is definitely easier on the forearms and elbows than trying to muscle straight through. After the first 20, I'm panting a bit so I take a swig of water and rest for about 30 seconds. Perhaps I should be timing my rests between sets? I'm not quite that anal yet, but perhaps I should be? I don't know how many I can get on the next set: my head says 10 and the rest of me is just spacey. A voice in the back of my mind says "Naw, at least 12, maybe more." I get more. Surprise!

The next set is an actual 10. It's weird though because I feel almost lightheaded. Like I'm not quite connected to my body as I do the reps. This is the first time I've ever felt so disconnected from my body during a workout. (I have, in the past, been worried by feeling "disassociated", but I've always chalked that up to low blood sugar. Investigating this phenomena further has me a bit concerned, but I have a lot more reading up to do.) My last set gets me 8. I suppose I could've gone for one more set, and probably gotten 5 or more, but going to failure doesn't serve any good purpose and risks injury. I'm really hungry by the time I get out to my car and I'm so glad I packed a (16 gm) Hi-protein Ensure® in my cooler. It's hot out, but I need to pick up a few things from the grocery before heading home to walk the pup.

I also debate going back to Kmart to pick up yet another 2 bags of salt for the water softener. My son and I put in 4 bags last week, but that wasn't enough. I got 2 more bags yesterday. Still not enough. Another 2 bags and the tank will finally look full. I hope. But I'll do that tomorrow. Before the storms roll in... I did indulge myself in a store-made chicken pot pie. I've loved pot pies since I was a kid, when my frazzled mother would buy Swanson® TV dinners and pot pies as a special treat.

I've made my own in the past, stripping meat off chicken carcasses to mix with frozen peas and carrots, and a creamy chicken broth sauce, topped with pie crust. But it's too hot to turn on the oven, and too much work for just me. I look at the label and almost gasp. Surprise, surprise, surprise! The whole pie, only 6 inches across, is considered one serving, supplying twice as much fat as protein and more than enough sodium. Not horrid amounts, but enough to take heed. At home, I cut the pie in half and I'm pleasantly surprised that it's solid and not soupy. It also tastes pretty good. I save the rest for tomorrow.

Whacking Friday

10 elliptical
Calories 92
Miles 0.82
HR 163/192

T, Y & I Raises
3lbs x 15
5lbs x 15

Mid Band Pulls 15
High Band Pulls 15

Nexersys (right side machine with dead power dig pad)
7r Beginner

Bicycles 50
Crunches 30/20

HGPU 20, 15, 10, 8  (53)