Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Circuit Torture, Week 13: Let's Talk Sweat

I started circuit torture (training) in mid-January, and while I've not appreciated the cold weather anywhere else, I did enjoy it at the gym.  While some folks were complaining about the 40-something degree interior, I felt fresh as a daisy--if a daisy could run, lift barbells, and contort itself rapidly...  Maybe an exhausted daisy, a sore daisy, but you get the point.

Now, however, the temperatures are climbing into the 80s and 90s.  Awesome when driving a convertible with the top down, but not so fun in the gym, and I learned something about myself.

I sweat like a pig.

We're not talking that attractive, athletic sweat you see on models advertising sports drinks.  No, this is icky sweat:  heavy enough in the hair to make part of it drippy while the rest gets springy, as if  trying to flee the fate of their sister folicles.  It clings to the wattles of my neck and drips off my nose.  I've always liked my eyes, which are kind of deep set, but when I'm working out, sweat likes to gather  on them.  Is it possible to sweat out your eyebrows?  I think I do.

I'm certainly a sight when I work out.  My hair is no longer long enough for a cute ponytail.  I sport something like a topknot instead.  I used to have a headband, and it would ride up on my hair as I worked out, so when I was done, the top of my hair boofed out, reminiscent of a chef's hat.  The wash ate it, though.  Seriously.  Somewhere at some Socks Without Partners meeting is my headband, hoping to get lucky.  I have a washcloth with me at all times, tucked into a waistband or bra strap.  If I forget one, I go through paper towels or tissues.

I drip, anyway.  Yesterday, we did walking push ups.  You start standing, bend and put your hands on the floor by your feet, then walk out on your hands until you are in a push-up position, do the push-up, and walk your hands back to your feet and stand up.  By the time I was done, I had left a trail of sweat drops on the floor that would have made a statistician happy.

I just hope that all that sweat is made of fat cells flooding out of my body, kind of like rats abandoning a sinking ship.  Or in my case, a shrinking ship.

Show of hands: Who of my readers sweat--and is it cute sweat or ick sweat?

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