Confession time.

I'm seeing someone on the side. There's been this unanswered throb inside of me, calling out, unanswered, for release.

God bless him, my sweet fiance did his best to give me what I needed. I will always love him for that.

I even tried desperately on my own to satisfy my need for release. It ended, embarrassingly, with me on the floor, and feeling dirty.

I met him this morning. He promised me that he could ease my ache; he would use his hands, and sometimes heat and ice, to get the relief my body craved. He said there might be pain; I was intrigued. There was no mention of a safety word. He put my body into positions I never thought possible. At first, it was painful, but slowly, I began to enjoy it. The yearning throb was replaced with release. Relief. Even... pleasure.

We made arrangments to see each other tomorrow. My body just can't get enough. He said he's done 2 people at the same time before. Maybe tomorrow I'll bring Dan with me and he can learn some new moves.

After all, at our age, anyone with the aches and pains we have can benefit from a session with a good physical therapist.

(Get your minds out of the gutter. Sheesh.)

Week in Review

So the week in review's a day late. Big woop, wanna fight about it?

It was a decent week, in general. Despite getting up at 4:50am, I still can't seem to actually set foot on the gym floor until 6am. I refuse to get up earlier than that, so I need to become more efficient in the morning. (HA!) However, I don't have to worry about becoming more efficient for four! more! lovely! beautiful! awesome! titillating! (ok, not really that great) weeks! Yes, it's that time again: Night shifts for 4 weeks. Butterflies and hearts fill the air. Things get accomplished - bills paid, yards mowed, carpets cleaned, houses dusted. It's like having a full day to do what you want/need to do, in addition to your regular work day - as long as you don't care too much about sleep.

In an unexpected twist this past week, I suddenly have somebody who wants to rent my house for a year. I didn't even know I wanted to rent it out, that's how unexpected it was. So that's what'll be getting done this month on nights. Lining up plaster repair estimates. Painting. Fixing the porch floor. Moving stuff. Ugh. Moving.

So, as you can see, I should really get off my ass and do something rather than sit here blogging. Without further adieu:

Monday - chest/core + 30 minutes on the staircase. That staircase... not fast by any means, but it gets my heart rate up there and makes me pour sweat. Pretty disgusting, really. However, it burns more calories in 30 minutes than any cardio I can stand to do, besides running.
Tuesday - arms + 45 minutes on the staircase. What I remember most about this day was the odd feeling of every extremity being shaky and jello-like all day.
Wednesday - legs/core - I didn't have enough time for cardio this day. Boooo. However, my leg workout was extensive and my heart rate was up in target range for most of it.
Thursday - crapped out. Slept in til 6am. Feels weird to say sleeping in in reference to 6am.
Friday - combined Thursdays arm workout with Friday's back/core workout. I really felt that back workout the next 2 days - the difference? Much higher weight and using the nautilus machines. Only 13 minutes cardio on staircase. Felt like I've been fighting something off (little one has (probably) the flu) and I didn't want to push it.
Saturday - it's my weekend off! So, nutskin.
Sunday - walked 4 miles with the dog - and man, did she need it. We'll be getting out later today too.

Results? My weight is decreasing, but the numbers are fickle and frustrate me. Better to focus on the increased strength and endurance, and the fact that jeans that cut into my waist a few weeks ago fit very nicely now.

Dear Cecil,

It's GYM, not Jim. Jesus, that's all I need is you starting nasty rumors with Jims living next door on both sides of us.

Furthermore, I'm off this weekend and starting night shifts Monday. I was planning a couple of nice long walks for us this weekend and lots more time together the next 4 weeks. So... chill! And quit pawjacking my blog.

Love,

Your feeder/walker/butt-scratcher

Jim.

Who is this... Jim?

Every morning, you wake up hours before everyone else muttering about going to Jim. I don't know who Jim is, but I strongly disapprove of this relationship.

See, when I see you getting up early and lacing up those running shoes, that always means that I'm going somewhere with you. The park, the trail, the lake.... maybe just a walk around the block. That's our time and this Jim guy is stepping on my toes. And I have a lot of toes.

So listen, Jim. I've been cool about this, and I haven't said anything about this to The Man. What does she tell him when she rolls out of bed at 4:50am? Does he know about you, Jim? I don't want to, you know, hold anything over your head... but what if someone were to, say, somehow clue him in to you? Maybe she'd be mad at me for a couple of days, like that time I chewed up her shoelaces, but I bet without you in the picture, Jim, we'd be going for more walks.

Be warned, Jim. I've spelled your name out in venison-sweet potato kibble on the living room carpet. It's only a matter of time before the jig is up and you're out of the picture, and I get My Person back.

A word about professionalism

An open letter to my public safety brothers and sisters:

Let me start off by saying that if you got into this for recognition and glory and media coverage, get out NOW. Your job is to protect the public, comfort and treat the sick and injured, and be ready to do it all again tomorrow. Without fanfare. Without a mention on the 11 o' clock news. Many times, without so much as a thank you. If you are in this line of work "to help people" (doesn't everyone say that in their job interview??), then you shouldn't be out there whoring for attention on Facebook or Twitter for just DOING YOUR DAMN JOB.

What is a professional?

A professional takes pride in their ability to perform their job, all aspects of it. If that involves having to hump 60lbs of equipment up the steps of a high rise because the elevators are out, and then carry the equipment and the patient back down, then so be it. A professional keeps their equipment (in this case, their body) in optimal working order so that it can perform under extreme duress. If you don't take care of your equipment, it will fail. Write up an equipment failure report on yourself (do an honest assessment of your physical condition) and get that equipment serviced (get off your ass and get some exercise, put down the pizza and the Stouffer's) so that it will work properly (and you don't have to file a workman's comp claim because you had to perform duties that you damn well know are in your job description).

A professional provides, above all else, comfort. If you do not provide comfort, those other "life-saving" "skills" - of which you're so damned proud - will mean squat to the person in need. Be truthful with yourself: How many lives do you really save per week anyway? Get over yourself. Does it bruise your ego to have to take 2 extra minutes to keep someone warm, or to respect their belongings and property by making every attempt to leave their residence exactly the way you found it (or better)? Do you mean to tell me that Grandma who couldn't pee will be so grateful that you saved her life that she won't notice you couldn't be bothered to wipe your boots before entering her house?

A professional is a team player and recognizes that they need to play nicely with not just their team, but any other team that enters our field. A professional also recognizes that if there truly is a problem that occurs during an incident, that there is a chain of command to follow to resolve that problem. Professionals resolve problems via the chain of command, not by posting snarky and attention-seeking comments in online venues.

A professional realizes that the image they project, even outside of work, reflects not only on them, but their employer and co-workers. A professional looks at the big picture and realizes it's not all about them. That no matter how much one thinks one is hurt or suffering or disrespected or not getting one's due, there is always another out there who is much worse off.

A professional is reflective and grateful that they are in a position to be allowed into others' lives to share what is often their worst day. A professional respects the trust that is inherent in each contact with the public and does not cheapen that trust by calling attention to themselves and their perceived slights and gripes.

So now do you think you're a professional?

Week in Review

It's been a good week in life and in TWOM (the Work of Me). I've been getting to the gym at the ass-crack of dawn before work a minimum of 5 days a week and getting a good hour-plus in. Bonus: the commute from the gym to work is 100% less annoying than from either house from which I commute.

The wrap-up:
Monday - legs, no cardio. I just couldn't get it together that morning. It was, after all, a Monday. I count making it to the gym at 6am and eating a homemade turkey burger for dinner (instead of the fast food I craved). Major win, in my book.
Tuesday - chest, then 30 minutes staircase for cardio. I really felt that chest workout the next few days.
Wednesday - arms/core, then 30 minutes on the staircase. Dan helped push me through the arm workout, and wow, did I feel that one the rest of the week. Thursday - back, then 30 minutes on the recumbent bike (I was feeling lazy).
Friday - shoulders/core. Dan worked out with me this day, too. Fun to have a partner to work out with. Especially when you can kick his ass at wall sits. Then, staircase for 30 minutes. I could tell it was a great workout because I was disgustingly sweaty and my muscles twitched and shook all day.
The weekend - I've done absolutely nutskin. The gym is open *exactly* the hours I work on weekends, so not an option. It was crappy out yesterday morning, so no dog walk. This morning, I'm not sure what my excuse is. There may be a dog walk in the future, but after 12 hours of work, most likely my cardio will consist of walking up the steps to the house, and weight training, lifting a book off the shelf to read in the tub.

Back at it in the am before my OT shift tomorrow. Time to plan my workouts for the week.

Anchor

I've found my Anchor.

For a while now, I'd resisted joining a gym. I have a nice treadmill. Dumbbells, exercise balls, and a weight workout all written out at whatever house I may be occupying.

However, soon after joining the gym, I realized that it was having one place to which I could go and get everything I needed that was going to cement my routine.

I get out of bed, swill some coffee down, change into workout clothes, brush my teeth, and I go. I don't have to worry about waking anyone up with my music or the pounding of the treadmill. I don't have to take the weather into account. It's always sunny in LA (Fitness). I don't need anything but a minimum of an hour and the desire to feel this energetic and strong every day. Oh. A good sports bra helps, too (I don't have one). And a sweet gym bag with its own hair dryer.

I have a new routine: Legs + core Monday. Chest Tuesday. Arms + core Wednesday. Back Thursday. Shoulders + core Friday. Each weight workout followed by as much cardio as I have time for. Weekends are for fun, but I must do something, even if it's just walking the dog around the block. This weekend I'm looking forward to swimming some laps at least once, maybe both days.

You know, the way I feel now, I don't think I'd care if I never lost another pound. Ok, that's a small lie. At some point it would piss me off to be working so hard with nothing to show for it. However, I know for a fact there are normal weight people around whom I can run circles and bench press without breaking a sweat - normal weight people who just don't feel as good as I do right now. I get up at 5am when I work daylights to make it to the gym before work. Sometimes this is after going to bed only 5 or 6 hours prior. Yet I get to work at 8am infused with energy. My mood? Ask my co-workers. We got slammed with 23 calls the other day. I was the biggest recipient of the slammage and every time another call came in, I'd just laugh because it was so ridiculous. I can't imagine how I'd have reacted if in hibernating, junk-food-eating slug mode. It wouldn't have been pretty, I imagine.

Who knew a gym membership would be so important?