A friend asked if I could go in-depth to my strength training, and so I'll endeavor to do so, starting with last night's leg session. I hope some new ideas might be gleaned from my experiences!
Here in Minnesota, we've had some wicked end-of-winter weather. Last night, it made for some oppressive humidity inside the gym, and while it was cool (and pouring rain) outside, inside was like a smelly sauna powered by sweaty people.
So J and I headed for the dome, where the tennis courts are and the TRX gear is kept. In theory, it was going to be more comfortable out there.
In practice, that was a pretty stupid theory.
Before beginning, I strapped on the heart rate monitor that I picked up over the weekend. I've wanted one for a while, and now that I'm doing more road running, I decided it was a worthwhile investment. It helps me to track how hard my body is actually working, which is useful for both calorie-burning figures and a good measure of how well I'm improving, physically.
I haven't laid out my benchmarks exactly, but I know that my resting pulse varies between 60-76, depending on if I'm sitting or lying down. A spirited warm-up holds me in the 120s or so. My running intervals on the treadmill push me up to the 170s, my walking intervals drop me back to below 150 within about 30 seconds.
I peaked over 180 once or twice and my head started to throb. I don't do that intentionally.
We started the night with a giant set of three exercises, starting with the TRX bands. First up was the single leg squat, which I like to imagine looked like this, but probably involved a lot more wobbling. (In that video, he's demonstrating a squat plus a row with the arms. I kept my arms straight, without the row.)
Fifteen of those on each leg and it was over to the low step, a little lower than knee-high for me, and it was single leg step-ups.
Each time we do these, there's a little variation. Sometimes, I'm stepping onto a box in front of me, like you see people doing in step aerobics. Most of the time, like this time, I square up with the box under one of my feet and I step up simply by straightening my leg. It's as though I were going to walk up a stairway sideways. Last night's variation had me stepping up and lifting my knee up to waist or chest level. Again, we did fifteen on each leg.
Last in the circuit, J had me hit the mat as he rolled over a medicine ball. I sat and looked at him, and he looked expectantly at me.
"Are we doing the hamstring thing?"
"Yes."
"Ah crap." Only I didn't say 'crap'. I so totally didn't say 'crap'.
I laid back on the mat, planted one heel on the medicine ball, held the other foot aloft, and through the awesome power of my glutes and hamstring, lifted my lower body off the ground. It looked roughly like this, only sweatier. We did fifteen of those on each leg.
Dripping sweat and gasping for breath like a goldfish on the kitchen floor, I checked my heart rate monitor before climbing to my feet to begin again.
"What's it say?" J asked.
"130. 130? That's it? I hate this thing!"
(Fun fact: No matter how hard it feels like you're working, if you're sitting or prone, your cardiovascular system isn't really working that hard. So totally unfair.)
We repeated that three-exercise circuit, then moved on to another set of exercises.
Round two! J started me with side lunges in a wide stance. This is a fancy way of saying that I dropped into a wide sumo squat, then waddled sideways taking tiny crab-walk steps with each foot. Last night, J walked along and threw a 10-lb medicine ball to me with every few steps. Down and back, about ten yards.
Second in this circuit was backward walking lunges. Straightforward, as the name implies. Good for the hamstrings and glutes, J told me.
"That's a big selling point for ladies muscle mags, you know," I said as I headed backwards my first time. "'Ten exercises for rounder, shapelier glutes!' Like I need that."
He laughed. "Lots of women want them."
"Yeah." A pause, turn and head back in the other direction. "You know what I want? Ten exercises to help me keep my boobs as I lose weight."
After the backward lunges, it was squats. Fifteen of them, medicine ball in hand.
Then it was back to the top, and repeat the circuit three times.
The night was wrapped with two abs exercises, alternating sets of bicycles and straight-legged sit ups.
(Fun fact #2: Heart rate monitor chest straps aren't that comfortable. When doing abs exercises and sporting a few [dozen] extra pounds, the transmitter really digs into the belly fat. The bruise is ridiculous.)
And with that, another legs night was on the books.
I felt good today, really good, so I gleefully headed for the gym after work. Twenty minutes or so on the bag, boxing, then over to the treadmill for some running.
Now, four hours later, my legs have seized up. Thanks to my brilliant choice to box tonight, my shoulders have also seized up. So.
Wednesday = Rest day. Thank goodness.
Showing posts with label boxing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boxing. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Arms night, now with boxing!
After a weekend full of running (and more running; the cross-training I was planning last night turned into 2.24 miles on the treadmill, whee!) I was looking forward to a little weight training tonight with J.
I asked if we could do arms. We were due, I thought. "By the way," I said, "if you want, I can grab my boxing gloves. I brought them along."
J's eyes lit up and he practically oozed the barely-contained glee of a kid on Christmas morning.
That should have been a tip-off, but if I've learned one thing on this journey, it's that I never learn.
How paradoxical.
So I went for the gloves while he went for the TRX bands.
What are those? I hear you asking. Well, I'll tell you.
TRX is a system of suspension training. It uses your own body weight in various creative ways to work the muscles. And boy, does it work the muscles. My gym has a big contraption that looks a whole lot like a jungle gym, monkey bars and all, and the TRX bands are attached overhead. There's a whole host of exercises that can be done, working every body part, and I'm of the firm opinion that until you start working body weight, you're missing out.
While many nights we super set (sets of two exercises performed back to back, then rest, and repeat) or giant set (sets of three or more, then rest, and repeat), tonight we did a full circuit that incorporated both weight and cardio. We used a similar strategy a few weeks ago, on legs, and I neglected to tell you all about it. I was probably too afraid to remember.
It was murder, is what I'm saying. Tonight was, too.
J had me start with bicep curls on the TRX bands. What I did was take a handle in each hand, palm up, and I put my feet way out in front of me, so I was leaning back against the bands with my arms outstretched. Like this:
Then, without moving my upper arms or letting my elbows drop, I bent my arms so my hands ended up beside my ears, like this:
Without resting (much), I flipped around. Instead of leaning back on the bands, I was leaning forward onto them, like this:
From there, I lowered myself into my hands and performed a push-up.
Both of these exercises are variations on a theme. They can be done without the TRX suspension bands, of course, but the TRX bands add the extra difficulty of stability. In the push-up particularly, the chest muscles not only need to help in pushing the body up, but they need to work overtime to keep the hands from splaying out or up.
"I'm going to fall on my face, you know," I said as I dropped into my second set of push-ups, arms shaking.
"People will think I beat you up."
"I know. I'll need to come up with a reeeeally good story for that."
From the push-ups, we headed for a nearby bench and J handed me a 20-lb kettlebell. I laid back and performed a simple one-armed chest press.
Last in our circuit came the boxing gloves. I had the hope, going in, that J had familiarity with boxing. Not everyone does, and I really wanted to get the most out of this experience.
By the third (and last) run through the whole circuit, I was no longer thinking that.
We started on the bag with a simple combo, left-left-right hook. Neither of us were impressed with my left jabs, but my right hook had some respectable power behind it. We danced around the bag a few times, then paused and regrouped before moving on to the next combo.
Next, I took on a right cross-left upper cut combo. We circled the bag in the other direction. This combo felt a little easier, because my left shoulder is considerably weaker than my right, and the left jabs were very tiring. Had a hard time keeping my left from dropping.
Lastly, with hardly a pause, it was a flurry of jabs for what felt like five minutes (but was more like fifteen seconds). The first and second full circuits, it was okay. And by okay, I mean "Only burned a little, it's okay, I can walk it off."
The third and final circuit, though, I could barely lift my arms. J was yelling at me, "GO! GO! Come on, Lisa!" and leaning the bag into me. The jabs were pretty feeble, but I was rocking the angry face something fierce.
Getting tired during training pisses me off. I push harder, I hit harder. I like getting pissed off during training. Funny how that works.
Anyway. Three times through the circuit was it, and we'd used half our time. So J grabbed a 25-lb kettlebell and started me on bent over rows. We hadn't done enough with back, he said.
Greeeeeat.
We supersetted the rows with another TRX move, in which I assumed a position similar to the bicep curl position. Instead of gripping in an underhand manner, I held on with an overhand grip. From here, I pulled myself up, elbows behind me, hands to my chest. Repeatedly.
Mercifully, we did only two sets of this. I couldn't lift anymore.
Oh, and then we did abs. A set of v-ups alternated with crunches, done twice. And I was toast. If J said anything else after those measly two sets, I don't remember. The brain was gone.
It felt good. Really good. Beating on that punching bag makes me so happy I can't even explain it. It brings out the fighter in me, which is what I need on this journey. I get angry, I get frustrated. I need to have a safe place to put it. Here it is.
And now, J has another exercise to add to his bag of tricks. "Just wait, I'll be having all my clients doing this. And when they hate me for it," he said, "I'll point right at you."
Burden: Accepted.
I asked if we could do arms. We were due, I thought. "By the way," I said, "if you want, I can grab my boxing gloves. I brought them along."
J's eyes lit up and he practically oozed the barely-contained glee of a kid on Christmas morning.
That should have been a tip-off, but if I've learned one thing on this journey, it's that I never learn.
How paradoxical.
So I went for the gloves while he went for the TRX bands.
What are those? I hear you asking. Well, I'll tell you.
TRX is a system of suspension training. It uses your own body weight in various creative ways to work the muscles. And boy, does it work the muscles. My gym has a big contraption that looks a whole lot like a jungle gym, monkey bars and all, and the TRX bands are attached overhead. There's a whole host of exercises that can be done, working every body part, and I'm of the firm opinion that until you start working body weight, you're missing out.
While many nights we super set (sets of two exercises performed back to back, then rest, and repeat) or giant set (sets of three or more, then rest, and repeat), tonight we did a full circuit that incorporated both weight and cardio. We used a similar strategy a few weeks ago, on legs, and I neglected to tell you all about it. I was probably too afraid to remember.
It was murder, is what I'm saying. Tonight was, too.
J had me start with bicep curls on the TRX bands. What I did was take a handle in each hand, palm up, and I put my feet way out in front of me, so I was leaning back against the bands with my arms outstretched. Like this:
Then, without moving my upper arms or letting my elbows drop, I bent my arms so my hands ended up beside my ears, like this:
Without resting (much), I flipped around. Instead of leaning back on the bands, I was leaning forward onto them, like this:
From there, I lowered myself into my hands and performed a push-up.
Both of these exercises are variations on a theme. They can be done without the TRX suspension bands, of course, but the TRX bands add the extra difficulty of stability. In the push-up particularly, the chest muscles not only need to help in pushing the body up, but they need to work overtime to keep the hands from splaying out or up.
"I'm going to fall on my face, you know," I said as I dropped into my second set of push-ups, arms shaking.
"People will think I beat you up."
"I know. I'll need to come up with a reeeeally good story for that."
From the push-ups, we headed for a nearby bench and J handed me a 20-lb kettlebell. I laid back and performed a simple one-armed chest press.
Last in our circuit came the boxing gloves. I had the hope, going in, that J had familiarity with boxing. Not everyone does, and I really wanted to get the most out of this experience.
By the third (and last) run through the whole circuit, I was no longer thinking that.
We started on the bag with a simple combo, left-left-right hook. Neither of us were impressed with my left jabs, but my right hook had some respectable power behind it. We danced around the bag a few times, then paused and regrouped before moving on to the next combo.
Next, I took on a right cross-left upper cut combo. We circled the bag in the other direction. This combo felt a little easier, because my left shoulder is considerably weaker than my right, and the left jabs were very tiring. Had a hard time keeping my left from dropping.
Lastly, with hardly a pause, it was a flurry of jabs for what felt like five minutes (but was more like fifteen seconds). The first and second full circuits, it was okay. And by okay, I mean "Only burned a little, it's okay, I can walk it off."
The third and final circuit, though, I could barely lift my arms. J was yelling at me, "GO! GO! Come on, Lisa!" and leaning the bag into me. The jabs were pretty feeble, but I was rocking the angry face something fierce.
Getting tired during training pisses me off. I push harder, I hit harder. I like getting pissed off during training. Funny how that works.
Anyway. Three times through the circuit was it, and we'd used half our time. So J grabbed a 25-lb kettlebell and started me on bent over rows. We hadn't done enough with back, he said.
Greeeeeat.
We supersetted the rows with another TRX move, in which I assumed a position similar to the bicep curl position. Instead of gripping in an underhand manner, I held on with an overhand grip. From here, I pulled myself up, elbows behind me, hands to my chest. Repeatedly.
Mercifully, we did only two sets of this. I couldn't lift anymore.
Oh, and then we did abs. A set of v-ups alternated with crunches, done twice. And I was toast. If J said anything else after those measly two sets, I don't remember. The brain was gone.
It felt good. Really good. Beating on that punching bag makes me so happy I can't even explain it. It brings out the fighter in me, which is what I need on this journey. I get angry, I get frustrated. I need to have a safe place to put it. Here it is.
And now, J has another exercise to add to his bag of tricks. "Just wait, I'll be having all my clients doing this. And when they hate me for it," he said, "I'll point right at you."
Burden: Accepted.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
My new-old favorite workout
For some reason I never entirely understood, I've always been enthralled with kickboxing. While I don't exactly have the demeanor to pummel someone into submission, I definitely have the wherewithal to beat the stuffing out of a heavy bag.
So when I saw kickboxing classes offered at the local YMCA some seven years ago, I signed up.
It was officially one of the most empowering, emboldening, and downright coolest things I've ever done with my body. Like many overweight folks, I have a lot of power; my legs are strong by virtue of carrying my body weight around. It was liberating to find an exercise in which I could not only participate, but excel.
I may have been surrounded by beautiful, skinny, high school cheerleaders, but in that class, I was queen.
The class didn't last long, only ten weeks, but ever since then I've been missing it. Seven years is a long time to miss something.
Tonight, I decided to do something about it. Something easy, something free, and something sure to make my back and arms scream for delicious, delicious mercy.
I shadow-boxed.
Shadow boxing is typically regarded as a warm-up. It's something you do before you step up to a bag, or before you move onto other training. But tonight, darn it, I wanted to make it count.
I put myself through the paces of warm-up: static and dynamic stretching, then some core work in the form of crunches and a feeble plank (that's just got to get better someday). The weight room where I was working at the gym was starting to fill up, so I grabbed a set of weights and staked my claim on a patch of carpet in front of the mirror.
Starting with three-pound dumbbells, I went through the jabs, dancing back and forth as much as I dared when surrounded by ladies who wanted the prime real estate I was taking up. A minute of boxing alternated with a set of squats to keep my body moving, repeated several times. I was sweating in less than five minutes.
Don't ever let anyone shame you for using three-pound weights. After a few reps, those things get heavy. Like, really heavy.
I wasn't satisfied to leave it at that, and before I'd spent my shoulders I picked up the five-pounders. I put in another few minutes before finally giving in and dropping the weights. Once I saw my jabs drooping below my shoulder line in the mirror, I knew it was time to give it a rest.
That was nearly two hours ago and my traps are still dancing like giddy schoolgirls.
Tonight was, without a doubt, the most fun I've had yet in the gym. I've promised myself that, when I hit that glorious 200lb mark, I'll be gifting myself with some gloves and a bag to put in the garage.
Meanwhile, you better believe I'll be boxing again, in my little corner of the gym.
So when I saw kickboxing classes offered at the local YMCA some seven years ago, I signed up.
It was officially one of the most empowering, emboldening, and downright coolest things I've ever done with my body. Like many overweight folks, I have a lot of power; my legs are strong by virtue of carrying my body weight around. It was liberating to find an exercise in which I could not only participate, but excel.
I may have been surrounded by beautiful, skinny, high school cheerleaders, but in that class, I was queen.
The class didn't last long, only ten weeks, but ever since then I've been missing it. Seven years is a long time to miss something.
Tonight, I decided to do something about it. Something easy, something free, and something sure to make my back and arms scream for delicious, delicious mercy.
I shadow-boxed.
Shadow boxing is typically regarded as a warm-up. It's something you do before you step up to a bag, or before you move onto other training. But tonight, darn it, I wanted to make it count.
I put myself through the paces of warm-up: static and dynamic stretching, then some core work in the form of crunches and a feeble plank (that's just got to get better someday). The weight room where I was working at the gym was starting to fill up, so I grabbed a set of weights and staked my claim on a patch of carpet in front of the mirror.
Starting with three-pound dumbbells, I went through the jabs, dancing back and forth as much as I dared when surrounded by ladies who wanted the prime real estate I was taking up. A minute of boxing alternated with a set of squats to keep my body moving, repeated several times. I was sweating in less than five minutes.
Don't ever let anyone shame you for using three-pound weights. After a few reps, those things get heavy. Like, really heavy.
I wasn't satisfied to leave it at that, and before I'd spent my shoulders I picked up the five-pounders. I put in another few minutes before finally giving in and dropping the weights. Once I saw my jabs drooping below my shoulder line in the mirror, I knew it was time to give it a rest.
That was nearly two hours ago and my traps are still dancing like giddy schoolgirls.
Tonight was, without a doubt, the most fun I've had yet in the gym. I've promised myself that, when I hit that glorious 200lb mark, I'll be gifting myself with some gloves and a bag to put in the garage.
Meanwhile, you better believe I'll be boxing again, in my little corner of the gym.
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