Full-Length

On Wednesday, I set a new PR for my dead lift. As detailed in the linked post, I excitedly grabbed my phone to take a picture of the weight so I could brag all over social media.

A few minutes later, Matt asked if I wanted a picture of me actually doing the dead lift.

"Oh, no," I responded, without hesitation. "I don't like full-length pictures of myself." He didn't say anything, so I went on. "Oh, I know, it's silly, I've come so far and yet I still don't like pictures of my body."

Ridiculous, don't you agree?

My body is certainly not perfect, if you're judging it based on Vogue or Cosmopolitan magazines. Hell, even if you're judging based on any running or fitness magazine. I have all kinds of fun quirks--stretch marks on my hips, extra skin and a bit of flab on my belly, a bit of jiggle to my thighs.

But you know what else my body is? It's bloody strong. It is five-feet, two inches of half-marathon-finishing awesome. It occurred to me, yesterday, that I dead lifted one hundred pounds on Wednesday, and then I was too ashamed to let Matt take a picture of me doing it. That doesn't make any sense.

We'll likely dead lift again this coming week--I hope we do. Because I'm going to hand my phone to Matt and tell him, "Take the picture. I want everyone to see the awesome things I can do."

Haters can step to the right. I've got some Badass to maintain.

The Dead Lift

Yesterday, I had a session with Matt, and I was excited--in that way that only lifting nerds can be--when he pulled out an apparatus I'd seen him use with clients at the gym. He bought it at some point after my training period with him three years ago, so I'd never used it before.

He put two 10-pound disc weights on it, and I didn't even think about the total weight of the discs and the apparatus itself. I just merrily started dead lifting and working on some form issues Matt was pointing out, like knee action and just how/where to place my butt in the pre-lift phase. (I have a tendency to treat dead lifts like squats, but we're working on it.)

It wasn't overly difficult, but it wasn't easy, either, in terms of the load I was lifting. To be honest, I didn't even think about how much I was lifting.

After a few sets of those, interspersed with sets of reverse push-ups, Matt took the 10-pound discs off and replaced them with 25-pound discs. Without even thinking about it, I said, "Oh, fifty pounds!"

Now, I should have known better. Fifty pounds is entirely too light for me--last time I did dead lifts with Matt they were in the 70-pound range.

Matt just smiled and said, "Yes!"

(Liar.)

This time, I noticed that I needed a lot more effort to dead lift...and I started to think about the weight of the apparatus holding those 25-pound discs. I finished three pretty difficult reps and Matt told me to rest. Then he grinned at me.

"That's one hundred pounds."

"One hundred...?" I did some calculations in my head.

"Yup, the bar weighs 50 pounds." He just sat there grinning at me as this all sunk in (slowly), and his grin got bigger when my arms shot up above my head in a V-for-Victory sign.

"I've never! ... I mean...Oh my God, that's a personal best!!!"

His hand came up for a high-five. "Good job! How do you feel?"

"I feel amazing! They were hard, but I did it! Oh my God, I have to Instagram this!!!"

So Matt just laughed while I aimed my phone at 100 pounds of weight I'd just dead lifted and snapped a picture. Because that's what you do when you PR in my world--you tell everyone.

The dead lifts (I ended up doing three sets of three reps at 100 pounds, after three sets of 10 at 70 pounds) weren't the only thing I did, either. There were reverse push-ups, and two Tabata sets of kettlebell swings. My body is feeling all of this today.

As I left, I was instructed to do 200 kettlebell swings on Friday.

"Two hundred?"

"Yup, two hundred."

We discussed the logistics: a brief warm-up, two hundred swings with my 25-pound kettlebell,  in sets of 20, and, if I have any energy left, some agility ladder drills (my original Friday plan).

There was a definite whine to my voice as I asked one more time: "Two hundred?"

This earned a low laugh and a grin. "Yup."

"Do you hate me?" (The whine was definitely getting stronger.)

"Noooooo."

And he doesn't. I know this. My workouts with Matt only serve to make me stronger and more badass. I'm so glad to be back at it!

Full

As I set out for a walk this morning, something amazing occurred to me:

I have a full-time job.

Oh, of course, I realized this weeks ago, when the position was offered and accepted. The papers were signed, and it was all laid out there--full-time salary, full-time benefits coverage. I bragged to my friend Matt yesterday that I'll be paying a whopping $35 per month out-of-pocket to have full vision, dental and medical coverage.

So yeah, I've been aware of the fact that I have a full-time job now. But today, it actually sunk in, to the point where I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes as I think back over the last five years and everything I have lived through, learned from, and survived.

When I lost my job in Stockton, at the end of the 2009-2010 school year, I knew I was in for a very uncertain roller coaster ride. The economy was terrible, music education job postings were few and far between, and though I have other credentials, the hiring pool was flooded with people with far more experience than I had, looking for those same jobs. I dutifully signed up for unemployment benefits, hoping I'd only need them for a month or two.

Instead, I needed them for two full years.

It's hard, when you have as much pride as I do--and I have considerable amounts of it, to be sure--to tell people, "Oh, well, I'm currently unemployed." People don't know how to respond, so I was always quick to reassure them that I'm not a total loser. "Oh, you know, I'm a music teacher in a bad economy." I'd get a relieved look and a big nod of the head. "Of course. That's totally acceptable. You're not a bum." They never said that, but that's what I got from the responses.

The first year, I stayed in my apartment in Stockton, despite an offer to move in with my parents. In retrospect, I'm glad I had that year of surviving on $1,800 a month. I learned about budgeting in a big way. I gave up shopping for fun stuff, eating out, pretty much everything. A dirt-cheap gym membership ($29 per year) and some help from my parents (the occasional $200 check so I could buy new running shoes, help with paying for service on my car) kept me afloat, and kept my workout routine alive.

In 2011, I started the spring-and-summer job application game all over again. Again, it yielded nothing. I was tired of only surviving, so I moved in with Mom and Dad again. At this point, it wasn't a blow to my pride. I needed to use my money for other things besides $1,000 a month in rent. Without massive expenses every month, I learned to save. If unemployment taught me anything, it's how to refrain from wasting my money on stuff I don't really need or want. I'm not entirely frugal, really, but I've gotten very good at really examining that cute blouse and thinking, "Eh...I'm not in love with it," while hanging it back on the rack.

When I was hired to teach a three-week summer program in 2012, I cried. I sat here at my desk, staring at the email offer, and sobbed over a three-week job offer, because it was the first employment offer I had received in over four years, since I took the Stockton job I would eventually lose. After two years of hopeless searching, someone thought I was a good bet. That job led to my job at Brookfield, a 20% position (one day a week) that yielded me $800 a month. I picked up a ton of private music students at Fusion Elite. Then Granite Bay happened, and suddenly, I was making even more money. I worked my ass off to make that work for me--and it did, for a while. Then it didn't. Faced with more uncertainty this spring and into the summer, I started applying for every job I could find on Ed-Join.

The difference between this time and 2010 is that the economy has recovered. The arts are coming back. No Child Left Behind is left behind (thank God) and the M in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) has shifted itself over a bit to become STEAM...with an A for Arts. I applied for a ton of jobs. I got a lot of interviews.

It was disheartening at first, not getting job offers, but I know enough about the education game to know that often, there's already a desired candidate, but interviews are given out to keep things "fair" and legal. It's not personal. I may even be really liked by the interview panel. That doesn't mean the job is mine.

But then...it was mine. My new boss is excited to have me, and to start the very first arts program at the school. And here I am, just under two weeks from starting at a new school, but this time, as a full-time member of the staff. I'm sitting here, almost crying, because once again, this ship did not sink. It hobbled on, it got itself fixed, and here I am. Oh, and I run half marathons, too.

So there, world. Knock me down, I'll just get up.

I've mentioned before that I'm staying with Mom and Dad for another year--it makes a lot of sense to me to continue saving money, and to explore the idea of buying next year instead of renting. I'm going to keep training with Matt--one, to help me readjust to working out at the end of the work day, rather than before, but also because I like working out with Matt (he's fun!) and I can afford it again. Should Rosie Pro need replacing, I'm in a position to get a decent car loan and make monthly car payments.

Of course, I'm going to work my hiney off to do well at my job, and I will not take it for granted. If unemployment taught me mad budgeting skills, it also taught me that my chosen career field is not always the easiest to navigate. But damn, I do love it. I'm good at it.

And once again, I'm full-time.

The Muscles of Human Movement...A Very Boring Story.

I have to memorize this stuff somehow...and I'm starting to feel desperate. Oh, and these are not all of the muscles in the human body, just the ones the National Association of Sports Medicine deems as important to human movement.

Once upon a time, there was a lonely little shin muscle called the Anterior Tibialis. Located anterior to (in front of), the tibia in the lower leg, it was one of those muscles that was no fun to foam roll (ouch!!!) and placed a bone away from it's counterparts--the calves. It could get lonely in front of the tibia, and this wee muscle did have it's share of accidents--bumping into tables and the like--but it was always good at getting it's main job done. Every time Meg tapped her toes to the music, her Anterior Tibialis was hard at work.

The calves, meanwhile, had each other. On the posterior side of the leg, they partied together, taking Meg up on her toes as she walked and ran--in other words, plantarflexion. Her Gastrocnemius, Soleus, Posterior Tibialis (cousin and antagonist to the Anterior Tibialis) were all happy to work together, and to reap the benefits of a good foam-rolling after a long run. They were aided by the Peroneus Longus, slightly off to the side of the leg, which also had the fun job of eversion of the foot...not the most common movement, but a movement nonetheless.

The lower leg muscles pretty much worked alone, and while it was very important work, indeed, it was nothing on their superior neighbors. Not superior as in "better than," but superior in terms of where they are on the body--higher on the leg.

These muscles could be classified into two main groups: the Hamstring Complex, and the Quadriceps.

The Hamstrings were great in helping Meg kick herself in the butt--literally. These posterior muscles aided with knee flexion, which is bending the knee and raising the heel towards neighboring Gluteus Maximus. They consisted of the Biceps Femoris--Long Head, the Biceps Femoris--Short Head, the Semimembranosus, and the Semitendinosus. The Hamstrings were also particularly good at hip extension, and rotating that tibia bone of the lower leg (not that anyone really rotates the tibia on a regular basis). But in extending that hip, or flexing that knee, the Hamstrings were a mighty team.

Their anterior neighbors, the Quadriceps (who enjoyed going by the nickname Quads, and consisted of the Vastus Lateralis, the Vastus Medialis, the Vastus Intermedius, and the Rectus Femoris), were always antagonistic to the Hamstrings on the other side of the femur. When the Hamstrings said, "Flex that knee!" the Quads would roll their eyes and groan. "Oh, great!" they'd mutter. "Now we have to lengthen, just so the Hamstrings can flex the knee."

(Let it be noted that the Hamstrings had the same complaint whenever the Quads extended the knee. We call this Reciprocal Inhibition.)

Despite this antagonistic relationship, both muscle groups did their jobs well for Meg, so long as she kept them properly stretched and foam-rolled. It was sometimes possible for those Vastus muscles (like the Intermedius) to get a little too tight, causing low-back pain and chain-reaction sciatica in the intrepid runner. But her trainer showed her how to foam-roll that little sucker back into submission.

In a neighboring community to the Hamstrings and Quads were some seriously hip muscles...the hip musculature. Literally. These little hipsters liked to say things like, "We were doing flexion and extension before it was mainstream...and we abduct and adduct, too." These muscles were the bearded, soy-latte-drinking jerks of the muscle family.

Yet, they did their job. Which was moving hips and legs and just being hip(s) in general.

Specifically, the Adductors (Adductor Longus, Adductor Magnus, Adductor Brevis, Gracilis, Pectineus) were a great team in adduction. Adduction is bringing the thigh towards the middle of the body--for example, when the feet come together in a jumping jack, or in a single-leg balance where you bring one foot across in front of the opposite leg. And while the hip muscles always felt as though they were cooler than the other muscles in the neighboring upper thigh community, they weren't above helping the Hamstrings with hip extension. After all, it takes a village to balance on one foot.

The Adductors lived in the anterior section of this lumbo-pelvic-hip neighborhood. In the posterior section, lived the mighty Gluteus Maximus, and its posse, Gluteus Medius and Gluteus Minimus. Medius and Minimus liked to work opposite of the Adductors, sending the hips into abduction (which Meg learned to remember by thinking of the word "abdicate," like, "I'm abdicating the throne--I'm outta here!") Medius and Minimus were also good for aiding hip rotation.

Gluteus Maximus, meanwhile, was a big player in the hip extension game,

(Meg's glutes as a whole were particularly awesome, or so she was sometimes told.)

Just like human hipsters outnumber everyone else in Brooklyn, the hip(ster) muscles are many. Starting at the top of the pelvis and extending down the outside of the thighs, the Tensor Fascia Latae (and it's assistant, the Iliotibial Bands) were the leading authority on hip flexion. The TFL and IT Bands liked to brag about the times they helped Meg whenever she needed to do some high-stepping in her marching band days, while remaining ever alert to her needs as a runner. Meg tended to spend a lot of time stretching these muscles.

The lumbo-pelvic-hip neighborhood was completed by the Psoas (hip flexion, hip abduction, hip internal rotation), the Iliacus (hip flexion, hip external rotation), the Sartorius (hip flexion, external rotation, hip abduction), and the tiny-but-brutal Piriformis (hip external rotation, hip abduction, hip extension). The Psoas liked to help with spinal rotation, while the Piriformis liked to be a little back-pain-causing jerk to Meg...until her awesome trainer showed her how to subdue it, too.

If Meg was ever going to have a six-pack, it would be because of her Rectus Abdominus, and all of its work in aiding spinal flexion (sit-ups and crunches and misery, oh my!!), and, of course, a lot of cardiovascular exercise for fat-burning. The Rectus Abdominus  was a proud member of the Abdominals, that family of muscles responsible for movements involving the spine, and other important jobs like supporting the torso. Surrounded by it's faithful allies the External and Internal Obliques, Meg was able to sit up from a prone position, bend her body from side to side, and rotate at the waist thanks to this family.

And thanks to her Diaphragm, that uppermost muscle of the Abdominals, Meg was able to take great breaths for singing.

Solidly located in the torso, another group of muscles liked to shout their motto: "We've got your back!" And they did. The Erector Spinae (consisting of the Iliocostalis, Longissimus, and Spinalis) and it's deputy, Multifudus, were the masters of spinal extension, particularly first thing in the morning, when Meg got out of bed and had a nice...big...strehhhhhhhtch...first thing. Both muscles extended from the cervical (neck) vertebrae to the lumbar (lower back) vertebrae, making them important to other movements as well, like rotation of the spine.

Meanwhile, the Quadratus Lumborum was a small muscle with one main movment: lateral flexion. It was almost completely overshadowed  by the largest muscle in the back, the Latissiumus Dorsi ("Call me Lats," it liked to say to the pull-down machine at the gym). Lats had a bit of an identity crisis--while he was located on the back, he was attached--physically and emotionally--to the shoulders. Therefore, his main purpose in life was to aid in shoulder extension, adduction, and external rotation.

The shoulder musculature, it should be noted, consisted of the largest group of different muscles listed in "the Brick," as Meg fondly called her NASM book. Their relationships to the scapulae (shoulder blades) and to each other was as complicated as a large blended family, but basically, they were responsible for lifting whole arms, rowing boats, pushing annoying people off cliffs, and handy tricks like bench-pressing and pulling up one's pants. The Serratus Anterior, the Rhomboids (Major and Minor), and the Lower, Middle and Upper Trapezius muscles were all located on the posterior side of the body, while the Pectoralis Major made up the chest and it's Minor provided soreness in Meg's armpits. The slopes of her shoulders housed the Three Little Deltoids (Anterior, Medial and Posterior), and hiding out under the scapulae was the Teres Major.

The scapula itself had a small group of muscles called the Rotator Cuff (Teres Minor, Infraspinatus, Subscapularis, Supraspinatus)...and Meg never wanted to piss them off, because Rotator Cuff injuries are brutal.

All of these shoulder muscles looked down their noses at the muscles of the arms. "We do so much of the ground work for you," they would sneer. "And look at you, you get all the glory."

It was true. Meg could admire her emerging Biceps Brachii and Triceps Brachii as she gained strength, because just one little turn of her head had them right in view, all smooth and contoured and tanned from all of that summertime running. The Biceps and Triceps were friendly antagonists. "I'll lift the dumbell in a curl!!" the Biceps would shout. "Great!" the Triceps would reply. "When you get tired, I'll gently lower the dumbbell!" And so they would go about their merry way, flexing and extending and making Meg's guns look pretty darned good. The Biceps were aided by the Bracioradialis and Brachialis, while the Triceps mostly did their job alone.

Of course, all of these muscles were controlled by Meg's brain, housed at the most superior part of the body, the head. The head weighed a good ten pounds, so it was important it be supported by good, strong muscles in the neck. Fortunately, there was a great team on hand.

The Sternocleidomastoid, the Scalenes, Longus Coli and the Longus Capitus were responsible for cervical flexion, the act of bowing one's head. They also helped with lateral flexion, that side-to-side movement, and all forms of cervical rotation. The Levator Scapulae aided cervical extension, meaning Meg could look up at the clouds or the stars to her hearts'content...when she wasn't stuck at her laptop, memorizing muscle groups and tapping out ridiculous blog posts.

All of these muscles lived (mostly) in harmony, going about their daily jobs, bickering with the nervous system whenever a foam roller came near, and gaining strength every time Meg worked out. Her body grew stronger and her muscles stayed happy through endless movements and stretches and half marathons.

The End

My Week in Instagram (Week #139)

What a week! I got to go chat with my new boss and get a tour of my new school. I spent a huge amount of time prepping for (and stressing about) the upcoming CPT exam. Tea date with Summer. Worked out, ran, ate, slept. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Sunday:

I had to cut my run short for a variety of reasons. This displeased
me.

Sunday pampering is always nice.

Post-pampering. Happy Meg.

It was National Ice Cream Day, so of course I celebrated.

Scheduled my exam time. Freaked out a few days later and
moved it to Friday the 31st. 

Tea and intrigue (Game of Thrones).

Ha! Found this on Instagram, had to steal it.

Monday:

Pre-workout selfie in Matt's gym. He converted his garage,
and did an amazing job, all on his own.

The state of my brain these days. 

Monday marked the five-year anniversary of THIS awesome
moment.

This made me laugh so hard at the absurdity. Never, ever
push a client! 

Tuesday:

Posted without a filter, hence the non-square shape saved
on my camera roll. It was a glorious morning.

Sun coming up over the golf course.

My new home. :) 

Pretty Bella

Minor freak-out about the new job, the test date, etc. etc.

When in doubt, foam roll. With Game of Thrones.

Wednesday:

For a few weeks now, Matt has been meaning to give me some
of his favorite tea (from a Middle Eastern market) to try.
We both finally remembered this week, so I had to brew it
just so.

I made it super-strong, which was okay, but I found I prefer
it lighter. 

The eyebrows are 'Shopped, but it's still too adorable not
to share.

I did not message him. What's hilarious is that just that morning
during my workout, I was lamenting to Matt (trainer, friend,
therapist), that so many guys are looking for "princesses" and...
I'm so not a princess.

Bananaaaaaa

100% of my friends and family agree: The corn did.

Online dating is weird. 

So instead of dating, I take pictures of Mom's garden.

Thursday:

Short run, but I finished it by doing some agility training
(up, up, down, down, up, up...On. Every. Single. Step.) so
it's all good.

Cute new top is cute.

So, turns out Downtown Dixon is kind of cute. 

They have a terrific little antique shop.

And the best tea place Summer and I have found yet. It's
one of our favorites because it's kinda-sorta halfway for
both of us, and they have great food, great service, great
atmosphere. I bought some caramel tea. :)

The Royal Tea: Soup (zucchini), salad, sandwiches, scone,
desserts. Pot of tea. All of it delicious.

And so pretty.

They sell Unicorn Farts lip balm, too.

Friday:

Tried the "fad" flavor. It was...not so good.

Notes. The Brick (the book). Tea. Water. Nearby bathroom.

Race prep.

Water droplets

Saturday:

When the race bib matches your shoes.

My third year running this one.

Running for a friend and her father, who is in advanced
stages of Alzheimer's.

Pre-race deep squat. My legs felt good.

Post-race noms.

Great first mile. Okay second mile. Terrible third mile. But
I got an oatmeal cookie, so all was right in my world.

Big Jim Hall, local radio personality.

Found out on Friday that my great-grandmother is buried at
East Lawn, where the race starts and ends. I stuck around
after to inquire about where she is buried.

Found her! According to Mom, my Grandma Bean (Mom's
mom) spoke fondly of her mother--Ruth was kind, but also
had a temper when riled. "Like me!" I said. Mom just laughed.

It's a peaceful place to rest. I introduced myself to her and told
her that her daughter Edna was a wonderful grandma to me.

Mom, Dad and I went out for Thai food.

I had Yellow Curry (chicken) and it was marvelous.