Saturday morning I woke up bright and early, determined to be productive. I brought my car in for its first oil change and tire rotation. Wee haa... what fun.
Following that I went to the downtown HW to lift and run. Now when I look back on this workout, I don't know what I was thinking. I ran into a former client of mine and we decided to lift together. I love when this happens because my former clients lift exactly as I taught them, so their style matches mine. Additionally, this also means I can push myself harder because I have a spotter.
During the workout I somehow decided I would work my legs a little harder than usual, particularly my hamstrings. Stupid stupid stupid. By the time I was done lifting, my legs were incredibly shaky. I decided to run on the treadmill to loosen them up and also get my cardio out of the way.
Within about 5 minutes I started to realize that some people were staring at me as I clomp-clomped on the treadmill. I would have liked to have believed it was because of my stunning physique, but in reality it was likely to be more out of fascination because they probably have never seen anyone try to run without really bending their knees.
Humiliated, I had to stop running (if you can even call it that) and just stretch. Then I hobbled out to the car and headed home.
Saturday night I thought I was going to die a number of times. For one, it was pouring rain and I had to attend 3 parties. The first one was a small gathering at one of Sarah's friend's. This girl doesn't really have much furniture, so by the time we'd arrived, the only place for me to sit was a VERY stretched out butterfly chair. I should have known better that to even attempt it. I started to sit and as I did, the fabric gave way so much that suddenly I found myself eye level with my knees and a seering pain tore through my hamstrings and inner thighs.
"OH MY GOD!" I yelped.
Everyone turned to look. Mind you, no one even knew who I was, except for Sarah and her friend. They all looked at me, knees up to nose, my right arm raised with my drink in the air, left hand on the floor in attempt to boost myself back up. Dead silence.
"Gaaahhh..." I muttered as I picked myself back up. Torture. Then I looked around and gave a half laugh. It was pretty obvious that none of these people really worked out, so I tried to explain what happened in basic terms.
"I had a bit of a rough workout this morning. My legs are really sore, so the chair took me by surprise..."
The response was several puzzled gazes and a few nods.
Sarah just laughed at me.
That night I picked up my friend Anne to hit 2 other parties while Sarah went to see the new Star Trek movie with a friend.
Near death number two: We went to a party in a neighborhood with curbs so high, it was painful to get up on the sidewalk. And, again, it was pouring rain, so I had to dodge puddles in the rain flooded pavement, so that was even worse.
By the time we got in the apartment, I was ready to lie down. Within a few minutes of taking inventory of the party scene, I was dismayed to discover that this was a gathering of the nerdbert variety. We were greeted by some guys in suits that were either too big, too small or too short. Then there were girls who were making pathetically amusing attempts at trying to portray themselves as sophisticated high-profile women.
Long story short, I spent an hour and a half sitting on the side of a foot rest with Anne, my head in the branches of a small indoor tree watching Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer while I sipped cherry seltzer water. I kept glaring at Anne, her returning a look that said, "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."
When Rudolph ended and the debate began about whether or not the next movie would be the Muppets or Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, I suggested to Anne that we move on to the next party. She agreed and we said our thank you's and good-bye's.
After we got in the car, Anne said, "Liz, I'm so sorry! Please don't tell anyone I subjected you to this...!"
I laughed and said it was fine, which it really was. I was looking forward to the next party at a former colleague's fiance's condo.
Near death number three: Upon our arrival at the next party someone made me a martini that was so strong that when I swallowed the first sip, I could feel it travel the whole way down. Then when it reached my stomach it started to burn. I switched over to beer immediately. Feh.
The rest of the night was filled with fun conversation, good food and laughter. Around 1:30 a.m. I'd decided I'd had enough and drove Anne to her apartment. Then I took myself home and dropped into bed.
Overall the night was fine. But when I woke up on Sunday my legs were so stiff I had to stretch for 20 minutes before even getting out of bed. Oy vey. And my legs are STILL sore today. I'll be lucky if I can workout tomorrow.
I will never never NEVER do dead lifts before a long night out ever again. I've learned my lesson. Ugh.