Years ago, I hired a personal trainer. (I hired him for 10 sessions, but only actually showed up to 3 because Oh.My.God. He wore Dove shorts! And had excessive body hair! He seriously grossed me out enough to not show up for 7 PREPAID sessions, because DUDE...Dove shorts.) In the 3 workouts that I managed to get through without puking, he taught me proper techniques for lifting weights and using the machines.
I have to admit that deep down, I feel superior because of my (very limited) knowledge of weight lifting technique, but the truth is, I really don't know shit.
Last night, I was laying on the bench, doing some free weight chest presses, quite possibly feeling cocky whilst using my Proper Weight Technique, when all of a sudden, my left arm starting burning like a bitch. I thought it was strange that I hardly felt anything in my right arm, but justified it by saying "Well, I'm right handed, so my left arm is weaker!"
I noticed a woman walk by and look at me, because at that point, I could barely lift my left arm. My right arm was all up in the air waiting for the left one to get up there and join it. I was grunting and pushing myself through the lobsided pain, when I suddenly realized the problem.
I was using a 8 pounder on my left arm and a 5 pounder on my right. I was mortified because HAHA! I'm a jackass! But, instead of correcting the problem by getting the proper weights, I tried to play it off by switching the weights, as if to say "YEAH, I DID IT ON PURPOSE."
I can't help but worry a little bit about having uneven arms, like, one being bigger than the other. Like my boobs!
(PigHunter also recently pointed out to me that one of my eyes is smaller than the other, so I'm just one big, sexy hunk of uneven body parts! Too bad for you, I'm Taken, bitches.)
I need to look into taking up a sport because 2 days a week of Aerobic Dancing isn't going to cut it and Freestyling it at the gym just isn't working out the way that I had hoped it would. As much as I wanted to believe that it would grow on me and that one day I'd love it, maybe even master it, my unequally sore arms are further prove that it just isn't "my thang" and I don't think that it ever will be.







I've been waiting for my body to crave the exercise for months now. I've been going and going and going to aerobics but nothing. If I miss a night my body doesn't "miss" it. I read blogs where women (runners especially) say that missing a workout makes them unhappy because their body craves it. When I don't go to the gym my body cries "victory! I get to sit on the couch and eat cookies and watch prime time!"
I am thinking though that I would like to play soccer. I'm just having no luck finding a team of moms-who-work-the-same-hours-i-do-and-are-also-fat-like-me-and-also-would-rather-hang-at-starbucks-than-practice. When I find them I will be all over that sport!