Bad timing (and rotten coincidence)

I was certain, leading up to this week, that we'd have an evaluation tonight. Why, I'm not sure. But I was certain.

As I posted this weekend, I did some arms work, since I was assuming this would be eval day.

Oh, no. It wasn't. It was an arms day. And, as J is fond of reminding me, it's getting harder.

I told him when we were starting that I had done arms a few days earlier and that my biceps were still hurting, which they are. All achey and stiff still. So he kindly let me off the hook for biceps. Everything else, though, was fair game.

J started me on seated rows, at a machine similar to this one:



Fifteen reps of those alternated with fifteen reps of incline shoulder presses, which are brutal for me. Every time I do them, I wish I was doing anything else.

I'm still cringing.

After three sets, we moved on to the cable machine for some tricep pulldowns. And we did loads. We started with fifteen reps of tricep pulldowns on an EZ bar, palms down. Then, after a brief rest, we did fifteen reps with my palms facing up.

Though the exercises were almost the same, they emphasized different parts of my triceps, which I really liked. I always seem to end arms nights with the most soreness by my elbows. Tonight, with these palms-up pulldowns, it felt like it focused higher up, toward my shoulder.

Tricep pulldowns are some of my favorites, but they make my arms burn. Quickly. I told J as much.

"You know," I grunted through reps, "I did these on Saturday."

"I almost feel bad now," J said, breaking into a laugh.

I paused and shot him a wry grin. "You can't even say that with a straight face."

"I know." He was still laughing.

Do you know how many total reps of tricep pulldowns I did? Ninety.

And then it was over to another station where we alternated overhead shoulder presses with a 30-lb barbell (fifteen reps, of course) with wide-grip incline push-ups. Magic number? Yes. Fifteen. Three sets.

Next, we headed back to the ladies' area, to find a little more space. We hit a machine that looks familiar:



It functions in much the same way as that first machine with some key differences. One is the angle, which emphasizes different parts of the back. The other is the variable grip it provides.

Since we had already used a standard seated row machine with a neutral grip, J had me use different grips on each of my three sets here. Where and how I grabbed the handles made a huge difference in where I felt the muscles engage.

Each set of fifteen of those was alternated with dumbbell bent-over rows. J handed me a 25-lb dumbbell, and the weight presented less of a problem than the rough, diamond-cut grip. Holy butternut, that hurt. My dainty little hands aren't used to such treatment.

Here's an important term to know in weight lifting: drop set. A drop set is when you begin with high weight and, as you fatigue, you reduce the weight. It's very useful.

It's also a polite way of saying "You got tired and couldn't lift that heavy one anymore."

We did some drop sets. That's okay with me.

We wrapped with abs - two sets of twenty v-ups - and called it good. I was almost sad that we left off with just one ab exercise, which J decided must have been sarcasm, but I was relieved to be done.

Oh wait, but I wasn't. I decided to hop on the treadmill and run a mile. You know, for fun. I finished in 12:37, which is nothing to write home about (anymore) but made me smile nevertheless.

My weight is back to 204, which is a relief. I was taking the fluctuation last week personally. Even better news, my foot seems to be doing better already. Squeezing the last bit of usefulness out of my old shoes was apparently a very bad choice.

Another lesson: learned.

On that note, it's past my bedtime and I'm feeling slightly delirious from the muscle fatigue and sleepiness. Tomorrow is another day. I only hope I can put on my shirt in the morning.