Fitness.

Feeling the rebirth vide of spring and the need to confidently wear a superhero costume on a video, I installed the pull-up bar in our workout area today. I don’t know why I rushed to the occasion, because we bought the pull bar only six or seven months ago, but the planets were aligned properly or something so I figured I might as well go ahead and do it.

Ready to do six or seven sets of 10 reps, I confidently pulled myself up onto the pull-up bar and promptly had flashbacks to junior high where we had to do the exact same thing in front of our classmates. Back then I could do 1 1/2 pull ups if I was lucky and encouraged by my classmates that called me “Johnny Wing Dingbat”.

Today I did three, sort of. Big whoopin’ doo.

I don’t think that was a bad start for several reasons. First of all, I’ve done no strength training at all. I’ve been focusing on my legs (for cycling) and my cardio for fat burning. My clothes are fitting better to the point where I’m wearing my smaller sized clothes without having to hold my breath or fear showering anyone near me with Levi rivets. I’ve been eating healthier and feeling better but the scale isn’t agreeing with me, so I think I’m gaining muscle which is heavier than fat (so I’ve been told). At least that rationale sounds good.

Anyway, here I am at the pull-up bar doing three pull-ups when I realize that I should take the stool away so that I’m really hanging there. Naw, I did that part, but I don’t remember if I should have my palms facing away from me or toward me while I’m doing this exercise. So I did three pull-ups each way, for a total of six. Later tonight I might actually unpack the free weights and then do some reps with those.

I told Earl last weekend that I think I was either suffering from seasonal depression or a midlife crisis (I’m approaching 39). He said I’m just nuts and besides he had planned on enduring several of my midlife crises before all is said and done. I’m glad he’s the sensible one.

I’ve been doing pretty well with my good health efforts since the beginning of the year. The change in pace from becoming a student has been beneficial in that I feel more active and more awake than I have in years. I don’t if it’s because I’m not sitting behind a desk all day anymore or if it’s because I’m actually thinking rather than going through the motions of a job, but I feel like I’m cooking with gas. The scale hasn’t flown across the bathroom in a couple of weeks as it’s spinning up the right numbers when requested.

However, I feel like I’ve put this streak of good health into jeopardy with the baking of double-chocolate brownies last night. There was a mix in the cupboard, I was in the mood to bake, so viola, instant decadance. I’m sitting here at the kitchen table eating some soup for lunch and all I can think about are brownies. I bet I could sit down and eat the entire pan of brownies and not leave one morsel behind. There’s something so comforting about brownies. I don’t know if it’s because they smell so good or invoke memories of grandma’s homemade brownies after school but my goodness they are screaming out my name.

I will be strong, I will be strong, I will be strong.

I’m going to slice off one little piece for dessert and then muster up all the will power I can to leave it at that. I’m sure the scale will thank me for it later.

O.k., I’m going to just come out and admit it. I use this song for working out and the male model as a body to aspire to. I am convinced that with a few extra crunches, some major cardio and cataracts on all parties involved, I might have a body as good as this guy’s someday. Sonia looks like she’d be pretty fun to hang out with as well.

Enjoy.

I don’t know who the Einstein was that thought that there should be a scale in our hotel bathroom this past weekend. I mean, did they think that I would pretend it wasn’t there and not weigh myself? Certainly not. You’d think for $159 a night I could escape the guilt of my eating habits but no, there’s the scale, waiting to remind me that my fitness routine is at a stand still.

The hotel scale does “airborne” well. It held up much better than the digital scale we have at home.

I don’t know what I thought would happen when I jumped on the scale Sunday morning. I mean after Saturday’s tasty lunch in Chinatown, a stop at Bertucci’s for supper, a cannoli and a chocolate chip cookie at Quincy Market and a beer at The Alley, did I really think I was going to spin a low number on the blasted thing? Of course not. To celebrate the fact that “tilt” didn’t pop up in glorious technicolor, I had three waffles, half a pig of bacon and some hash, all swimming in maple syrup, for breakfast. Then it was on to D’Angelo’s on the Masspike for lunch, where I was quite proud of myself for only having a medium sandwich instead of the large.

Today it was vegetables, fruit and a dollop of tuna for lunch. And water. Lots of water. I’ve peed more today than I did the entire weekend.

At least the “tilt” light is still off.

I jumped on the scale this morning and discovered something quite remarkable. I’ve met my weight goal. On January 1, I weighed in at 208 lbs. This morning I weighed 170.

I have to admit I’m quite pleased.

I haven’t been able to get to the gym this past week because of work, I’m looking forward to getting back into the routine this coming week.

Now to keep everything in balance!

Earl and I have been working hard at the gym for the past couple of weeks and I still can’t get the hang of one specific thing: how to properly accessorize with my iPod.

The last time I went to the Apple store I picked up a Sportswrap for my iPod. My iPod is a couple of years old, so it’s a “traditional” one, being full sized and having a black and white LCD screen. But I love it and I don’t see myself replacing it for quite a while.

The problem is I keep getting tangled up in the earphones wire.

Tonight I was doing my thing on the treadmill, bopping along to a special 10 minute remix of “Hung Up/Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)” when I realized that I had somehow wrapped my arm around the earpiece and I was pulling my head down towards my chest, while my iPod was coming unwrapped from my arm, making it look like I was jogging at an awkward pace with some sort of palsy (not that there’s anything wrong with that). But the only affliction I had was a poorly placed iPod.

I ended up jacking into a rerun of “Deal or No Deal” instead. Madonna will just have to wait.

Fashionista.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Today has been a day of getting chores done. Earl’s company vice president is coming into town to take a tour of his two plants on Monday and Tuesday, so he’s out of town getting his office outside of Albany in tip-top shape. To get all the logistics worked out, which involves a rental SUV, a corporate jet and an 18-minute flight from point A to point B (which takes about 90 minutes to drive), I ended up driving Earl to Albany and getting him settled in his hotel room. We went out for a little dinner while we were there and then I headed back home.

While he was packing and I was putting away laundry, I saw the box of clothes that have been anxiously awaiting the results of my fitness routine. I thought about it a minute and then said “what the heck”, and tried some of these clothes on.

THEY FIT!

There was no jumping across the room to land in the jeans. There was no lying down to fasten snaps, there was no fear of belts exploding off my waist. As I went through the clothes that were set aside back in 2004, I was delighted to see that my clothes were fitting nicely, boosting my confidence to new heights.

I guess the working out and eating healthy is finally paying off. I was so happy that I ended up doing cardio on the elliptical machine instead of the treadmill today at the gym. I found out the proper name for this beast, I’ve always referred to it as the “spastic thingee”. I welcomed the correction.

So I’m going to trudge on with the whole health thing and focus on staying in my “thin” clothes and building up some muscle and stamina. My goal is to be able to do a backwards flip by running up a tree (like that new Visa commercial) on my birthday in mid July.

Or at least a three day, 200 mile bike ride.

Earl is out of town on business tonight so that puts me in bachelor mode. I’ve been looking forward to going to the gym all day (get up off the floor, it’s not that unbelievable) so after eating a relatively healthy dinner and letting that digest for a little bit, I made the trek to the gym where I decided it would be a cardio night.

I started out on the treadmill, doing about 25 minutes. I know, seasoned gym people would say “big deal”. Oh well, I’m just starting this whole gym thing again. I ran half of the routine and walked at a fairly good clip for the remainder of it. Somewhere long ago I read that you should alternate between walking and running so your heart rate goes up and down, up and down, forcing it to work harder and do more good things to your body.

Thank the universe I don’t have hair because had I shaken a head full of hair I would have showered those around me with sweat. I think I turned 18 shades of red. I don’t like to think I was soaked, rather, I glistened.

Feeling all limber and whatnot, I decided to try one of those glider thingees that swings your arms and makes like you’re a gazelle. I did that thing for 10 minutes. More sweat, more glistening.

After then getting on a cross country machine and basically spazzing out because it wanted to swish when I wanted to swoosh, I decided to calm down a bit, gulp a 24 oz bottle of water and head to the locker room.

As soon as I walk into any locker room, in my mind I am transported back into junior high school when I was all intimidated by the upperclassmen we had to share the room with. There are big, buff guys everywhere, peppered with a few older guys that have obviously done nothing but maintain their health their entire lives. Men are shootin’ the breeze, showering (don’t look too long!), shaving and getting ready to go lift weights or head home after lifting every weight in the place. Then there’s me and I can’t shake that image of myself I had when I was 13 – scrawny with a paunch, unable to grow any sort of facial or body hair and thinking that my homosexuality is glowing like a neon light. Of course, it’s just paranoia doing it’s thing because no one even notices that I’m in the locker room with them. Besides, the paunch is disappearing, the flame is kept to a low pilot light and I have a full beard now.

I guess I’m just one of the guys now.

Well Earl and I went ahead and did it. After thinking about it, mulling it over and analyzing it from every possible angle, we laid down the cash and went ahead and did it.

We both joined the gym this afternoon.

Look out world, here comes the fierce Dynamic Duo.

Well I finally got serious about working out tonight and moved my “exercise gear” out of the computer room and into the basement. Everything is arranged nicely; CD player strategically mounted with workout music like “Baby Love” by Regina, “Everytime You Touch Me” by Moby and “Come To Me” by France Joli. I picked up these workout shorts that are suppose to make you sweat a little more than usual while you’re doing your thing, and I have an old computer strategically placed so I can watch a workout DVD or web feed when the timing is right.

I had forgotten how energizing exercise really is. Bring it on baby. Bring it on!