I still don’t know what the direction of this site is, but at this point it’s about to be renamed “Monte´s COVID Chronicles and Other Random Shit.” Anyway, it’s 3:53 am. My eyes are red and itchy as hell, my throat feels like an army of fire-ants are using it to rehearse the opening number in STOMP, and I have heartburn like a pregnant woman in her first trimester. Fix it, Jesus.
I can’t tell you the last time I had a good night’s sleep. If I had to guess, it would be sometime in February(?). I work overnight, so my sleep schedule is already screwed, but now even on days off I’m awake until the sun comes up. I’ve tried everything short of medicine, including showers before bed, sleeping without the TV on, playlists of ambient sounds instead of my favorite slow jams that I always end up singing, etc. I’ve given up at this point.
Despite my sleep struggles, this week was filled with more highs than lows. I started working out. *gasp* Joined a virtual fitness camp. It’s funny how the universe works. After a trip to the doctor at the end of February, it was suggested that I start working out. Shocker. It’s something I’ve known forever, but for various reasons never committed to. During the first week of March, I planned on finding gym and maybe even a personal trainer to help me on my fitness journey. Just as my search began, and I finally got the courage to do what needs to done, Little Miss Rona reared her ugly head. With gyms closed, I figured it was a wash until we got back to normal. Well, color me surprised when it dawned on me that it would be a while before we got back to normal.
But, as always, the universe knows when to kick you in the ass. As fate would have it, one of my closest friends and college roommate’s mom is a personal trainer who just happens to be hosting virtual workouts. GLORY! When I signed up, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew it would probably be intense, but didn’t know how intense. On Monday, April 20, 2020, for approximately one hour, I got my ass KICKED! When I tell you, I worked out places I didn’t know I had. From squats to lunges to ski climbs, crunches, and every damn thing else in between. She kicked my ass. I can’t overemphasize how much of an ass-kicking I, along with 20 or so other people in the virtual class, received. She kicked all of our asses, but she really dug her foot square in mine. I —
As sweat rolled down my cheeks (both sets) and my glasses fogged up like someone put me in the dryer, my goal was simple: Just finish. That’s all I wanted to do on Monday night. Finish the class. With my mission clear, I powered through each exercise as best I could. Sure, my form sucked and for a few of the exercises I ended up just doing squats because I didn’t think I could do what was being asked, but I finished. Around 7:15 pm, feeling like I was hit by a tractor-trailer, and sweating profusely, I finished. I survived the class.
I barely made it to and through work that night. I ended up missing Tuesday’s class thanks to some Motrin for soreness and my bed feeling like a cloud. I was back at it on Thursday, though. With most of the soreness gone from my knees and thighs, I gave what I could in that session. Admittedly, I didn’t go as hard, but I still felt the burn. It didn’t hit me until after Thursday’s class that maybe this is exactly what I needed to release some of the stress I’ve been carrying around. Not only due to the pain in our collective asses, Lady Rona, but stress in general. Who knows what will come of this, but if I can lower my stress and my cholesterol at the same damn time, count me in. Shout out to Ms. Deb and Kim.
Meanwhile, sleep, baby, where art thou?