Back to the Grind

Yesterday was the first day back at the gym post hand gashing. I was so excited to be back. I kept wanting to show people how dedicated I was to being back at the gym and working out. How my feeble muscles hadn’t atrophied after my heartbreaking week away.

But no one cared. Hell, no one noticed. I don’t exactly know what I was expecting as I clearly don’t talk to anyone at the gym and I hadn’t been there to tell them of my harrowing tale. So instead I went about my business, thrilled that nothing was hurting *too* bad and that I hadn’t lost much ground.

As I was finishing up on the bench press I look over at the guy watching the really distracting TV. He was a regular. And his  middle finger was in a cast. Talk about feeling like a ponce. He’s got a gimped up finger and I have a little boo-boo and can’t make it in?

I did take Le Petite Belle’s advice and did my share of cardio, but wow did I feel like a gigantic sloth. My paltry push-ups were enough to remind me that I love the gym and missed it dearly. And I am so ready to get back on my game.

Last 5 lbs? Yeah – I’m talking to you. We’re over. This is it. You’re coming off.

An apple a day, my ass!

I am notorious for my snacks. I eat 3 meals and up to 3 snacks a day. Every day I cut up an apple and eat it with Trader Joe’s fucking amazing peanut butter. Every day.

This morning, I got up at the ass crack of dawn (as always), made breakfast, and decided to prepare my snacks for the day before jumping back into bed for my daily morning nap. Apparently the gods of good health were not smiling upon me today, for as I was mid apple cut, my knife slipped and I cut the web of my hand. ‘Member how your mom always told you to never cut into your hand? I’m going to go ahead and second that… now.

So I went to the hospital, blah blah blah, got stitches and a tetanus shot and I was back home before I technically had to even be awake to get to work on time. Mama calls that… productive!

Anyway, so after the shock wore off and the throbbing started, it dawned on me that I won’t be able to lift weights for … a long time.

Well, I suppose I could lift with my right arm. And do cardio… But I’m supposed to start pilates and I am in the thick of my lifting program and this could be a major set back.

So what should I do?

What do you do if you’re gym-restricted? How do you stay motivated? Not slip into a non-gym depression?

By the way… I maintain that no one has ever needed stitches from cutting chocolate.