Home Sick, Bombarded by E-mails and Almost Passing Out at the Monkey Bar

So, it’s worth mentioning that I did not contract salmonella from my peanut butter. As of yesterday, one full week had passed without symptoms of gastro-intestinal distress.

That said, my boss did pass on a doozy of an upper-respiratory virus. Awesome!! I’ve been stuffed up and coughing since Saturday morning. A rhinovirus, maybe. It does kind of feel like a Rhinoceros (I had to look up the proper spelling of that) is lodged in my nasal passage.

I elected to abuse my benefits at work and stay home on Monday and Tuesday. I also skipped our indoor practice on Sunday night since congestion really doesn’t help my ability to breath while sprinting.

It worked out well to stay home though, even though I didn’t get much work done, I did take care of some nagging bills and continued to struggle with this challenge match fiasco bombardment of e-mails … which I won’t talk about anymore because if I start, I will unlease the hound dogs of hell. Maybe when it’s all over and my anger trigger-switch isn’t only 1 millimeter long. Maybe then. And maybe then I’ll photocopy my hand flipping the bird and mail it to some particular people too. Love and kisses!!

So, yeah, I opted to dig out some shorts and a t-shirt to shuffle my way down a block to the Monkey Bar Gym for our rugby training session last night. I didn’t really have much of an excuse now that I only live one block away. But it’s finally warming up again around here, 40 degrees. And I thought it might make me feel better. Or as Sue mentioned last night, sweat it out.

Well, I certainly sweated. Ugh. First we jump roped to warm up. Note to self – if you find yourself in a life-or-death situation requiring the need to jump rope backwards, you will likely die. Try to get in a different life-or-death situation involving something like eating ice cream instead.

After jump roping, our workout was unveiled, one I had missed the first week of class because I was moving. “I go, You Go”. More awesomeness! Kelly also pointed that my boyfriend was wearing a t-shirt that showed off his chest. Sure, just distract me in the middle of class so I feel the need to go over and pet him.

Then Goose was my partner for our workout. And Goose is in better shape than me, plus she’s been training with our trainer. And she didn’t have a rhino stuck up her nose either. Just her pink hands (don’t ask). I weighed the various weighted medicine balls I could use, realized that I felt like a runover skunk on a highway and hadn’t done this workout before and picked the 20 ball. I don’t know if was 20 pounds (I think so) or 20 kgs, but his name was “Otto”.

The workout was fairly simple. And by simple, I mean only three steps guaranteed to kick your ass. We stood over our medicine ball, picked it up for a clean, squatted with it and then pressed it up over our heads. Then back down. That was 1. So Goose would do 1, I would do 1. Goose would do 2, I would do 2. All the way up to 8 each, then back down again to 1 each. Timed for speed. By the second set of 7, Otto and I no longer were feeling love for each other and my form was kablooey. And by the end, Goose had to wait on me to struggle through. I was beat. I hate being sick.

It didn’t help that people pointed out that I could do more weight. Let me do it right the first time I do this and let me figure it out, okay? Just mind your own weight. Before I lick you and you get your own rhino stuck up your nose.

Afterwards, I was not happy. I was very sweaty, but not happy. Thankfully, we were done and just had some ab work. I had also missed this the first week, so when all of the powerwheels were grabbed up, I opted for a medicine ball again. This was too light, I probably should’ve used the powerwheel, so I will next time. More “I Go, You Go” with sit-ups with the medicine balls pressed above our heads or knees up/pikes on the wheels. And then balance work.

So, after it was done, I was glad I had gone. And now, I’m going to eat some of my lunch early. A Jiffy (not Peter Pan!) peanut butter sandwich.

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Filed under Blondie: my thoughts, Monkey Bar

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