My new gym, Tower Fitness, is located -- surprise! -- in a tower, specifically the 16th floor of the Mid-Continent Building, from which I momentarily thought of flinging myself following a workout. CORY YOUNG/Tulsa World
My trainer.
Be especially careful of falling objects at the southeast corner of Fourth Street and Boston Avenue on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, at least through the end of March.
Last week, I started working out at Tower Fitness, located in the former St. Francis HealthZone location on the 16th floor of what I jokingly referred to once as the "Incontinent Building" to someone who was, sadly, incontinent -- and an employee of a company housed in the tower about 10 years ago. Oopsie.
Whatever, a fabulous co-worker of mine alerted me to a great deal with a guy who trains folks there, so I hopped on it (the deal, specifically) and, now, have had three sessions with Cole Forsberg, whose new title is Cole Slaughter. (He suggested Megatron, but I really didn't like the idea of working out with an evil Transformer -- unless, of course, it was Soundwave or at least
talked like Soundwave, which would be awesome.)
Anyhoo, C. Slaughter took my measurements (I am
sooo not emotionally equipped to divulge my true waist size right now, but it was shocking) right after New Year's, and I've had three 30-minute sessions since -- AND some sore muscles, particularly triceps. They were my scapegoats for not taking the tree down over the weekend. O Valetine's Tree, O Valentine's Tree, how lovely yo branches gonna be (just kidding -- maybe).
Monday's session went better than last week's because (1) I was more confident having lost TWO FREAKIN' POUNDS and (2) I didn't want to throw up in the middle of the work-out. The two times before, I got nauseated doing shoulder presses -- SHOULDER PRESSES! What's up with that? Not that I seriously would've acted on the impulse, but I remember wondering if I could make it to the men's room before I yakked, or if it would be quicker to just hurl myself through the window. Thankfully, the nausea passed before doing crunches.
Not Monday, though. After the workout, I hopped in my car, gagged a little bit, shut off the heat and rolled my windows down. I made it to Yokozuna then had to stop -- at a green light, no less -- and flung open the door to ... Well, let's just say I came close to hollering New York right there at Second and Detroit. My apologies to the driver behind me, hope I didn't make you late to something.
Not even a minute later, I felt great -- made it home, had a Weight Watchers chocolate shake, reclined on the bathroom floor about five minutes, got ready and made it to work. Alive. Yay!
Even though it's only been a week since I started back to working out, I already feel better -- mentally and physically. So if you're hem and hawing about getting back in the gym, SHUT UP AND GO!!! You'll thank yourself later.
And if you feel compelled to thank me for anything, I love me a fruit bouquet -- ZERO points on WW, don'tcha know.
Peace, love and Valentine's trees ... XOXO
