(no subject)

Had another "can't tell by looking" day in Gold's Ballston yesterday. I had a good and bad day lifting, first successfully deep squatting 225 (I think for 6 and then 4), doing stiff legged deadlifts at 185? 195? for 2 sets of 10. For the strong guys that deadlift is no big deal - for me it's near the edge of my ability to grip and far more than I was doing with bad form leading to aches a short time ago. Icing on the cake was a much thicker guy was also learning deadlifts and swapped with me while his buddy mentored him. He was unable to do that weight 5 times. I only smiled inside, but I smiled. Of course that guy that doesn't appear muscular but squats over 400 was 2 stands over...

So the gym made me happy, but then...woke up this morning sick as hell. Went to work anyway, downtown in the ice and rain, because we are juggling a series of cases that require coordination. I'm sure I have time to recover and sterilize the house before the party, but what suckity-suck-suck-suck that after a year or more of not being sick (that I recall) I get sick right when I was going to try to have some fun.

Who cares, but I'm happy with my workouts right now. I'm still learning form, still finding what my maxes are at what reps for which exercises in many areas, but I'm getting closer to figuring things out and showing some gains. I enjoy strapping on a 45lb plate and doing dips and noticing the looks out of the corners of people's eyes. I don't mind running around like a geek with my pads of paper, taking notes on what I did while my hands shake - there is no guessing when you write it down - what I did is right there in b&w, a motivator to do it or more this time. There are no skipped exercises. There is just my dorky pride and disgrace there in my plastic folder. Kicking ass and taking notes?

And now I'm under blankets feeling sore.

(no subject)

Do pretty girls toot? Mythbusters episode they don't show in USia.