Tag Archives: sweaty observations


As you know I have been taking Power House Dance to help me on my journey to wear skinny chick clothes.

At first I thought I was doing okay.  Then I looked in the mirror.  I was horrified.  I looked like a hot, sweaty, blotchy, mess.  I decided that I would not look at myself anymore.  I started watching other woman in the mirrors and just assumed I looked as good as them.

You know… Smokin hot.   Body moving in the right direction at the right time.

Well…As I have started to figure out the moves I am getting more confident in my groove and I have been sneaking some views of myself.

Oh.  Lord.  It is a wonder how the other women in the class are able to concentrate with me in the same room.  I look like a fool. After my first class I said I was like a jumping elephant at the circus. I think that is a generous description of my grace and style.  I remind myself of how my children used to dance when they were first learning to walk. To say I have no rhythm is an understatement.

My arms fling when everyone else swings.  My legs are going left when everyone else goes right. I am a step behind.  I can’t spin/turn/rotate because I get dizzy so I am facing the front while they face the back.  I am a lost soul on the dance floor.  My body is moving.  In my mind it is moving the way everyone else is moving but in reality it is just moving… no rhythm.  No groove. No sense of reason for my actions.  I end up a sweaty sore mess but I definitely don’t look good in the process.

And so now I must apologize to some people from my past:

I am sorry to my band teacher from high school.  Why did you let me play bass drum?  I have no rhythm… there was no way we would be able to stay on a beat that I was setting.

I am sorry to the rest of the drum line… Now I know why you guys were always mad at me.  I couldn’t march in time because I have no groove.

I am sorry to the girls that I cheered with freshman year… of course we sounded ridiculous since I probably could not chant at the same rate as everyone else.

I am sorry to anyone that tried to dance with me at high school dances or in the clubs during college.  Maybe that is why none of those relationships lasted.  It is a good thing the hubs has no rhythm either… we are a perfect match.

I am sorry to my clarinet teacher from when I was in elementary school.  I still can’t tap my foot correctly when I am playing music.

I am sorry to my RMS friends for the year you let me in their Evolution of Dance Troupe.  It doesn’t matter that I didn’t really practice… I probably still would have looked as bad as I did but hey it was fun.

I should probably apologize to the people that worship around me at church.  I sing and praise but I am sure it is just as bad with rhythm there.  I am sorry for singing loudly and off key and off beat.

I am sorry to all the people in my dance class right now.  I might get it one day but for now… please don’t look at me unless you need a good laugh.  And don’t worry, I will laugh with you…if my abs don’t hurt too much.


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make em sweat

If you have been reading my blog (or have known me) for any amount of time you know that I am a bit tubby and I struggle with losing and regaining weight.  In general I have almost no motivation and can come up with a million and one excuses to avoid exercise and healthy eating.

But right now I am on a kick. I have some motivation to exercise and I am going with it.  I have decided that if I take a class then there is a little more accountability.

Tonight I joined the “Power House Dance” class. I should have known by the name that I was going to hurt and look like a red-splotchy beached whale in the middle of winter.  Yep… that is how I looked.

Here is a recap of the class.

We started promptly at 5:31 with a bit of yoga warm-up stuff (I don’t know the technical terms so I am making this up as I go- it may not have been yoga but we were stretching and reaching and twisting in ways that I haven’t ever tried).
By 5:34 I was out of breath.  
By 5:37 I was hoping for a water break.
At about that time we moved on to some interval stuff.  I have watched the Insanity infomercials and what the teacher was doing looked a lot like that- What I was doing was nowhere near that.  I was more like an elephant trying to jump at the circus.
Around 5:40 we had to run 2 laps.  I almost died but then we got a water break.  I took this time to observe some of the people in my class.  I was sweating and they were not.  I was huffing like one of my lungs had been removed and I was having an asthma attack in the other.  Their breathing was heavy but nothing to be concerned about. Once they caught their breaths (I am still looking for mine) we started dancing. The first song was pretty good.  I started to get a little cocky… you know because I am a fabulous dancer.  The 2nd song, though, kicked my butt.  And so did the 3rd and the 4th and all the rest of the songs.
By 5:59 I was dying.  My arms weren’t lifting.  My legs weren’t jumping.  My pelvic region was no longer popping (not sure it ever did… it just sort of jiggled in a circular motion). 
At 6:01 we got another water break.  
At 6:02 I realized that if I didn’t pace myself, the only water I would have to drink was the sweat dripping from my shirt.
At 6:04 I started wondering if this was a 45 minute class or an hour (you know what I was hoping for)
6:07 marked the time a cool down should have started… if it was a 45 minute class.
Around 6:10 some high school girls show up and start making fun of me (I am sure they were just goofing but they were laughing pretty hard.  They were also recording “each other” with a cell phone… I made them promise me that I would not show up on YouTube.  I also told them that if someone offered them money for their video I would pay more.
6:14 got me thinking hoping that maybe she would just end the class at 6:15 without a cool down.
6:16 reality hits that I have another 14 minutes of this torture.  I am on the edge of death at this point questioning my sanity for thinking I could survive any sort of dance class.
Around 6:18 I sneak a peak in the mirror.
6:19 had me thinking “Why do they have mirrors??  This is a disgusting sight!!”
We finally start cooling down at 6:24.  But I could hardly move to reach out and stretch my muscles.  By the time class ended I felt like and big tub of jello. 

Oh my lord!! I am going to hurt tomorrow.  I can already feel the soreness setting in to my arms, shoulders, back, butt, legs.  You name it… I feel it.  

But hey… I think I will go back on Thursday.  My inner super model is fighting strong against my outer fat girl right now.  (I might change my mind when I can’t write on the board tomorrow).

What are your recent workout stories??


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Football supervision

On Friday nights I get to help supervise home football games. I started by standing in the open area behind the end zone telling elementary age kids to stop running and sending middle school kids back to their section.
Now, though, I have been promoted to be the “Visiting Team/Referee Liaison.” Sounds like an important job, right? I just made that title up. Really, I greet the visiting team and refs. I let them into the locker rooms and then I save seats for the band.
Anyway, here’s the purpose of my post.  Tonight we are hosting Kansas City Northeast and I am disgusted my members of my students body and community. KCNE has a team composed primarily of black students. The community of Nevada is primarily white. (And when I say white I mean red necked.)
When I let the KC team into the locker room every single one of their players and coaches looked at me and thanked me for holding the door. (Last week the Eldo boys barely looked at me and grunted). I told their coaches that I was impressed. I don’t yet know their ball skills but I do know they are respectful and good kids.
As I sit here savings seats for the band I am listening to kids as they walk by on their way to where ever they are headed. I am disgusted by the uneducated racist things I am hearing them say. How dare people say things like that about someone they have no clue about. I fnally stopped a group of former students and got all over them about what they were saying. They looked at me like I had horns coming out of my head (at that point I probably did) and laughed as they walked away.
I don’t know if did any good in ending the senseless racism but I feel better for taking a stand.
What would you do? Do you stand up?

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Back to it

We got back from Canada on Sunday and I have finally caught up on sleep and laundry so I decided it was time to restated my workout.

So I am sitting on the side of the track at the Y trying to stop sweating. Remember… I sweat like a man and it is gross. Canada did not cure that.

While I am sitting here I am observing my fellow daytime workout-ers.

The old person class is going on and I love walking around and watching. These people are old and they are working out in chairs. It is awesome to see their blingedout canes next to them. Many of the woman have Sunday make-up on. They are doing leg and arm circles and tossing a hot pink koosh ball around. There is an old man in the group and you can tell a few of the woman are showing off for him. It is so cute.

There is the wanna be meat head in the free weights wearing flip flops and swimming trunks. I want to scream “dude the pool is downstairs” and push him off the bench he is just chilling on. But then I remembered I don’t do free weights.

I am about cooled down so I am out.  Please, though, share some of your sweaty observations with me.

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workout style

I have been going to the gym fairly regularly this summer and I am starting to question my look.  When I work out I sweat.
A lot.
Like.. man sweat.
It is gross, really.

I have never really cared about this as I am WORKING OUT.  Isn’t that the point?

I am happily married and pretty confident in who I am.  I accept my place in the world of “But she has a great personality.”  It is all good.  I know that when I make an effort, I can look pretty good but I am not a traffic stopper.  Maybe the meat heads dropping the free weights take a peak every now and then but that is as far as any checking out will ever go with me.

After doing 45 mins on the elliptical, working my (nonexistent) abs and doing 50 (girl) push ups today, though, I walked by the mirrors and took a look at myself.


People!  Why didn’t you tell me I looked so gross?  I was splotchy!  I had hair sticking to my face, my neck, up in the air.

Those guys weren’t checking me out as they were lifting weights.  They were horrified.  They were probably looking at me like I look at “The Real Huusewives of Wherever”- I hate what I see but I can’t stop myself.

How do I fix this?  Maybe the girls in full make up, hair. hoop earrings, and cute workout gear are not really trying to pick up men at the gym.  Maybe they just don’t want end up looking like a sweaty, red-splotched oaf like me!

What is your take on how you look at the gym?  Do you go glam or gross?  Would you judge me?


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play ball

The boys have started playing baseball.  (actually, Bubba is playing t-ball and Dude is playing blast ball)

Before I go any further, let me explain t-ball and blast ball.  In both, the kids hit the ball off a tee.  In t-ball, they run all the bases.  In blast ball, they only run to 1st base.  When they stomp on the bag it makes a blasting noise.  Also, in both the whole team bats then the whole team plays in the outfield- no assigned positions.  In both, there are no strikes, outs, or keeping score.

These things bothered me a lot about the boys playing.  How are they supposed to learn the rules?  Is it too touchy-feely if we don’t have outs or keeps score.  However, after watching, I realized it doesn’t matter.  For preschoolers and kindergartners, they just want to hit the ball and run the bases.  The younger ones only have one base to help them learn which direction to run.  After watching a couple of games, it works for me.

Bubba’s first game was Monday night.  He was into it.  Hustling into the field, calling for the ball when it was in play, hitting well and running like it meant something.

Not all kids on his team were into, though.  There was a little boy that sat down on the pitcher’s mound.  Another flopped in the dirt in the middle of the infield making a dirt-angel.  Another walked up to the umpire and stared her down- like he was daring her to yell at him.  Many of them couldn’t figure out how to run once they made contact.  Some of them just couldn’t run.  The fielding was atrocious.

Bubba was a giant compared to many of the kids.  Before the game, I was worried about his athletic ability.  Afterwards… I am pretty sure he is phenom compared to the rest of the team.

Wednesday Dude started playing blast ball.  About an hour before his game, he decided he didn’t want to play and had a meltdown.  We forced him to go because we are mean parents.  Once he got his uniform on things were a little better.  But… He was the kid making dirt angels.  He roamed the outfield looking for flowers.  He ran to the fence to give me a kiss (awww…). He was in lala land for the majority of the game.  He came home filthy.  Every time he ran he had to slide.  Into the base he slid (then jumped up and bounced on it).  Every fielding play he tried to make was a diving or sliding catch.

When he was up to bat, though, he was awesome.  Dude could hit it past the pitcher’s mound.  He could hit it past the base.  He was twice the size of any of the other kids on his team (and the other team for that matter) and his size worked to his advantage.  He was the slugger of the team.  After the game was over, he said he couldn’t wait for the next game.  He had a great time.


Dude getting ready to hit.

I am so glad the boys are having fun playing ball.  I can’t wait for the next games, either.


Bubba in white at 1st base. By the way… his head is so big we had to bring his own batting helmet.

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face plant

We are flipping between the Royals game (i know…) and Ninja Warrior on G4 (it is one of those make a fool of yourself Japanese obstacle courses with commentary in Japanese and bad subtitles. check it out here)

There is a lot of face planting going on on Ninja Warrior and it made me laugh a lot.

I did not expect to see face planting in the Royals game.  However, I saw one tonight.  Alex Gordon made an amazing diving catch.  In the process his face slammed into the ground.  OUCH!!

The image made me flash back to 9th grade volleyball practice.  It was homecoming week.  I was supposed to get braces the next week.

I wanted to be an athlete but I will be honest with everyone… I sucked.  I was the fat kid that had great spirit and that is why I always made the team.

Anyway… back to volleyball practice.  We were working on digs (I think that is what they were called- diving for a ball that was about to hit the ground) and I was   into it hoping practice would end early so I could work on spirit week stuff.  I took my turn and dove threw myself to the floor hoping I wouldn’t look like a beached whale flopping on the ground.  (Just a FYI… i never wore the little spanky shorts for volleyball and would never have gone out for the team if they were a requirement)

In the process of hitting the ball (I am pretty sure it was an awesome hit) I face planted on the gym floor.  I tried to take a bite of the freshly waxed floors but instead the floor bit back.  My front tooth broke off.  I looked like I had been in a hockey fight.

Its okay… you can laugh.  And if you were there (and remember this), please share your version of the dive tell me how awesome the dive was.

Thank goodness for a good dentist.  Not only did he fix my tooth the next day, he did so in a way that filled the gap in my front teeth (previously wide enough to fit a pencil) so I looked like I had great teeth in my homecoming pictures.  I did get braces but they skipped that tooth (which looked really bad) for about 6 months.  I have had the front tooth replaced a few times since because the fake ones don’t last forever and I am permanently scarred by the face plant.

Stay safe out there.

Do you have a face plant story?  Please share with me.

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