Pooped again
Worst Chest Workout Ever award goes to today's session, thanks to me being an idiot, and reading a book I got from the library until well after I should've been down in the gym. And thereby missing my Nourishment Window.
And I was hating the book, too. It was Frances Kuffel's
Passing for Thin, which according to the cover blurb is about "losing half my weight and finding myself."
Well, I was interested in the premise, because of course I've lost nearly half my weight, and found out all sorts of things, and I therefore wondered about Frances' experience.
Unfortunately, she just pissed me off. She described, in loving, gluttonous, gorge-rising detail her years of surreptitious stuffing, wandering about her parents' house with stolen food stuffed in her cheeks and into folds of laundry, then subsequently eating herself senseless in a dark, grotty apartment which served no other purpose than to hold her 300+ pound self as she called for takeout from the bed, ate it, then went to sleep (without, presumably, brushing her teeth -- she says she didn't even do her dishes). Then she found Overeaters Anonymous, and in between bouts of self-hatred, mixing bowls full of salad, and wistful reminiscences about food she had known, lost weight and became slim and more or less hot.
I think I've been spending too much time at
Big Fat Blog. I think -- I don't know. I just resented the book -- resented it for supporting all of the "Obesity Crisis" idiots parping about how all these fat slugs do is obsessively chow down greasy junk, and if they'd just eat healthy foods they could all be thin and stop being a blight on the American landscape.
Bullshit, I say. There are tons (er, pardon the pun) of fat people who are not repulsive in their overeating, who do not have longstanding "habits" of using food as a barbiturate (as Ms Kuffel insists she did), who do eat healthy foods -- maybe a bit more than they "should" (or should as fat people; thin/normal people can "overeat" and it's just fine and dandy), but not necessarily in outrageous amounts -- and are still fat.
By the end, Kuffel is thin, and looking for lurve; she has a rather rocky experience with MatchDotCom and online dating -- but it's easy to see why. Her true love, her lost love, is and always will be her food. She speaks of food with far more passion than she ever does of her rather abstract dates and sort-of boyfriend.
Annoying. And yet I read it, the whole thing, hoping that somewhere, somehow, she'd really learn something from all this, become likeable instead of fragile and somehow shallow. But she never did.
Anyway. Workout. Chest and shoulders,Rep Range week, tempo 212, rests 90 seconds.
DB Floor Press
WU 15lb PB x8
Work 35lb PB x8, 8, 8
Notes: Made target reps, but barely. It gets worse, though.Incline DB Press
WU 15lb PB x8
Work 25lb PB+Add x10, 10, 8
Notes: Third set, hit the "bonk". All downhill from here. I am stupid.DB Flye
WU 10lb DB x8
Work: 25lb PB x 11, 10
Notes: I don't even want to look up how I did on these last time. This sucked.Single-Arm DB Press
WU 10lb DB xR4/L4
Work 25lb PB xR7/L7, L7/R7
Rear Lat Raise on Incline Bench
WU 5lb DB x8
Work 15lb PB x10, 10, 10-ish
Notes: Though I sort of did target reps, I was not happy with these at all.Cable Side Lat Raise
Work 2.5lb xR12/L12, L12/R12
Notes: What's the point of doing a warmup when you are using ONE plate, the smallest you have, for your workset? Gah, these are depressing.Total lifting time, 40 minutes to the minute. Then, because I already felt like crap and should've eaten forty minutes ago, I still, of course, had to go up to the school and run football-field sprints. Ten of them. A. came along and brought the dog, and played ball with him while I ran. By the time I'd done that, I was dazed and staggering, and whining incessantly to A. about "what carb to have", because I become completely irrational when my blood sugar is down, and such things as what to eat become Huge, Looming Issues of Major Importance.
So I came home and stuffed the entirety of one of the oatcakes, hastily smeared with Jello pudding icing, into my maw. Because it was there, and the thought of making -- anything -- was bringing me near to tears at that point.
Sometimes I hate my body. This is one of the things losing weight has done for
me -- arsed up my blood sugar. No. I sound bitter, but I'm not. I'm just feeling fat and bitter today.
On a completely other note, a hospital in Toronto called, and said they had openings to do the MRI on my pesky bosked-up knee. When? Well, they do all their scans between midnight and the morning shift.
Five a.m. this Monday morning. In Toronto. I can hardly wait.
splogged by compass-rose
at 7:30 PM EDT