Day 16 was looking to be a bust. I was under the weather, so the gym didn’t happen. Got postponed to day 17. I slept a chunk of my day away trying to get on the mend. I did salvage the day, however, compliments of my baby brother, Jenson. He had asked me to enter a contest…originally as him, because he really wanted the prize, but ‘can’t draw’. I wasn’t really okay with being a ghost artist, so I told him I would enter as myself, and if I won, he could have the statue offered as the prize. (Contest link) Top prize is a Diablo III statue from Sideshow. It’s a little dark and doom-y for my taste, but the idea of having my art shown on IGN was a good opportunity, and it makes my lil’ bro happy, so win/win.
He requested a witch doctor, but I’m not super familiar with the game, so I asked him – since I was doing this for him – to gather up references for me, and email them to me. He said yes, but he never sent them. I realized yesterday was the final day to submit, so I checked my email – NOTHING. I gathered up my own references and did my best to familiarize myself with the material. I ended up doing a blended character design – part of the design was modeled directly from the in-game assets, and some from my own research, lying heavily in African and Native American tribal fashion and real-world wild life. The picture was a success, but I didn’t get to finish it in the way I had envisioned in the time I had left.
I think she turned out pretty well. I added a couple little pops of color in there, in her eyes and the smear of blood running down her cheek. I see things I would change now, but time was a factor, and I think it went well.
SO with that, Day 16 was in the book. Day 17 was a doozy so far, though.
When I woke, I still felt offish from yesterday, but I thought, “NO EXCUSES” and I put myself together for exercising. I decided to try the ninja shirt again. I took Charles to work, then went to the gym.
BOTH treadmills were in use by two ladies. The one on my normal treadmill looked a lot like Michelle Rodriguez. Both ladies looked pretty entrenched, so I decided to try the other machines. The elliptical was first. I circled it like a vulture would a carcass, but I was trying to figure out how to get on the darn thing, not to pick meat from its’ bones. Michelle’s doppelganger (I know I’m missing special characters, but whatever), who I’ve nicknamed “B*tchface”, glared at me like I was some kind of idiot for not knowing how to get on the thing, and that I was really disrupting her exercise. I tried to ignore her as I finally got on the machine.
I got it moving, and was feeling super proud of myself when it happened – 2 minutes of “YEAH!” became a resounding “NO! NO! YOU GO AWAY NOW!” from my legs. They didn’t wanna get their gazelle-like stride on ANY more. I wobbled off of the machine, my chest aching cause I probably should have stayed at home in bed. But I needed to exercise, and the treadmills were still occupied by B*tchface and girl 2, so I moved to the bike.
For those who know exercise bikes (or read my previous blog about my experience), you gotta pedal to turn it on. So I did. I started to set the program, and it asked for my weight, and the first number was 175. I do not weigh 175, and so I pressed the UP arrow. It couldn’t be held. For each pound, you must press the button again, all while pedaling. No stats were tracking until the setup was complete. I pressed and pressed, and it beeped and beeped.
B*tchface glared at me as I struggled with my awesome lack of coordination, trying to pedal while beeping forever. She pushed her earbuds in, and turned up the volume on her iphone before turning her scowling, grumpy b*tchface away from me. But then it happened…I stopped pedaling just before I got to the weight, and the lights went out. I pedaled again, and repeated the beeping. B*tchface was now rolling her eyes and adjusting her headphones more.
I finally got my weight in, and began pedaling, and it happened again…
“No! No! You go away NOW!”
I sighed and got off the bike, chest still tight, and wiped down the machine. B*tchface rolled her eyes again, and sauntered herself right out of the gym, not wiping her machine down or anything. Some people’s lives are just more important, so I shouldn’t have annoyed her with my existence.
But eff that lady – MY MACHINE WAS OPEN! I wiped it down for her, cause I’m nice, even to B*tchface, and hopped on…or more of an awkward meandering on. I set up my netflix with the show recommended for me – Breaking Bad – and began walking. The pilot started out MEGA DEPRESSING – so I dunno if I’ll be able to use it to exercise until I watch the pilot + other eps and get beyond the “OMG this is sad” to the “OMG WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM NOW!”. My chest tightened again and I felt lightheaded, so I hit cooldown after only 15 minutes on the treadmill. I had a good sweat going, plus my trials with the other machines were exercise too, and I didn’t feel super good. I wiped the machine down, and walked out of the gym.
The steps were hard to navigate, and it was so hot outside. The pool looked refreshing, but I didn’t have my suit on, so I thought I’d maybe do that later if I felt up to it. I walked around the bend, past the tennis courts, through the parking lot. The nemesis, Mr. Stairwell, was in sight, I walked down the sidewalk and took a left for the stairs, eye on the prize, but suddenly I kept going to the right, then nothing, then I found myself on the ground. I actually fainted briefly while taking the corner toward my apartment. I was quickly revived once I hit the grass, and I hadn’t been so happy that the neighbors picked up their dog’s droppings as I was that moment. Would have made the fall a bit more unpleasant. I didn’t have any scrapes or soreness. I pulled myself to my feet, wobbled up the stairs, and put myself to bed for a little bit.
Met the fella for lunch at Hot Krust Panini Kitchen (Turkey Lake/Sand Lake intersection – by Whole Foods. GO RIGHT NOW if you haven’t been there. One of my faves.) and now I’m at home, resting and writing this blog.
Lessons I learned today: Sick + Exercise = fall in potentially dog-doo laden grass (I got soooo lucky). Also, the ninja shirt is bad for workin out. My two worst performing exercise days were while wearing it. I don’t think I’ll wear it to work out any more. I am NOT a ninja. (I always saw myself as more of a pirate, anyway. You can’t be both.)