I Told You I Was Going To Do Some Dumb S**t.

Holy mother of all that’s Jack LaLanne did I over do it today. I haven’t been this close to vomiting in the gym in more than two years. That’s what I get for not fueling up correctly. Instead of having breakfast and lunch, I sort of had brunch, but not omelet and mimosa kind of brunch. It was the protein bar meal replacement sort of brunch. I didn’t feel like going to the gym but I missed yesterday so today was mandatory. I had a really good session of weights. I blasted my back and rear delts. I can tell that I’m losing weight because my pull ups were very easy and my shorts are starting to fall off. It’s a good thing I went with the bike shorts as underwear instead of the g-string, which is MJ’s favorite. I finished my weights and everything was going well until I ran back up the steps after getting my iPod. All of a sudden I had to burp, and it was the kind of burp that wouldn’t really come all the way up. Hopping on the elliptical machine didn’t help. At twenty minutes in I thought the Met-Rx bar was coming back up. I had to battle it for the remaining forty minutes, but I wasn’t going to use nausea as an excuse. It’s like Arnold said, “I’ve thrown up many times in the gym.” I used the heart monitor on the machine to make sure I wasn’t going to die, even though getting mouth-to-mouth from the chick that was on duty wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. I hate the heart monitor on the machines because they’re in weird uncomfortable places. I may start wearing my Garmin just for the heart monitoring comfort. When I was done – I even went through the cool down, which I never do – I was surprised to see that I hit all my goals. I thought I’d had a really crappy hour. Unfortunately, my heart didn’t want to slow down, and it took about five minutes before I felt good enough to do my abs. Today was a repeat of a lesson that I seem determined not to learn: nutrition is everything.