viva la diva!

this one's for the girls...

http://www.ejelements.com/blog/?p=375

obsession: the reunion

you are cordially invited to tag along...

http://www.ejelements.com/blog/?p=370

chapter thirty: (plus six)

thirty days today and gone tomorrow. welcome to a recap of one of the best impulse decisions i've made in my oh so tender twenty plus years of life.

one: never repeated an outfit once in four stylish weeks. lagerfeld is always watching, i kid you not.

two: grinded it out, and showed my calf injury who was boss with a swift high knee in the ass.

three: messy buns are indeed practical when rpm's are above 90.

four: day twenty nine has been sitting in my drafts since day twenty nine. today is day 59. blogging every day should include pay cheques.

five: day 37 was my first day off.

my name is gemma and i am a junkie!

chapter twenty nine: late slip

day twenty nine came and went. i had all the intentions in the world to finish blogging all thirty days, but in true gems fashion i had to screw it up at the last minute. well, the show must go on. even if it's 30 days late.

so here is day twenty nine... the end

chapter twenty eight: dodging bullets

this past sunday was pretty amazing for endorphin junkies. now that i'm a seasoned veteran in the art of bullet dodging, i hopped over the bridge and played matrix all afternoon with my 6 awesomely hot tickets. yes this class was all girls, lead by the famously girlicious kimbells and nix. too bad all our names didn't rhyme. i think it'd be safe to assume we'd dominate in any form of speed dating. we have been working on flexibility a lot lately.

you know any exercise that's named after an action movie is going to definitely make you seem a little more raw. it would have been more fitting for me to be wearing a leather outfit... and that's not only because we broke out the dominatrix leg straps again. flexibility and sexy scapulas have been upgraded to priority on sundays. the next step in total domination would be the sexy stilettos lap dance classes, and hair-ography. it's safe to say we're officially using our girl powers to the best of our abilities.

what's a girl gotta do to be taken seriously around here? i think it may have something to do with anything black and anything lace. throw in a bit of hip disassociation, figure eight styles, and you're in business. boys, are you interested?

chapter twenty seven: x and some milk

nothing used to get the day started better than a cup of tea, a bowl of yogurt and granola, and the ladies of the view spewing about their dirty, filthy sex lives. over the last month, i've learned another shocking piece of valuable information. there is one more ingredient that will better your daily performance. 45 minutes of x, and you're ready to tanto that. hey tanto, jump on it, jump on it.

drove my honda to the gym today, and got there in six minutes. and when i say honda i obviously mean my new running shoes. this stuff works people, i don't even have a car and i'm walking so fast, it's like i'm going to win a prize or something. maybe it's that i feel like i'm always in some sort of race. on your mark, ready set let's go. and just like that i'm off shaking my tail feather all the way over the cambie street bridge.

hold the presses everybody. after a long and exhausting search through all the spectacular ab jams we've done throughout the course of the last month. i have, most certainly, found the funnest ab workout, this side of russell simmons sequined booty shorts. (yes i did just make the word 'funnest' up. i felt with any other word selection, the gravity of the situation would be down-played) this is all you'll need to play abs: one friend and a big ball. turn up the music and you'll be laughing in no time.

there is something i feel like i should also mention, as a safety precaution. only if you're interested in remaining at the top of your game. don't do too many bicep curls, or else you might not get a date. i'm just saying. men like to have bigger biceps than you. take it from madonna, she speaks from experience.

chapter twenty six: 31 points at half

hey, this is radio station EJone. we're taking calls on the wish line, making all your wacky wishes come true.

"i wish i was a little bit taller, i wish i was a baller. i wish i had a girl that looked good, and i would call her. i wish i had a rabbit in a hat with a bat and a six four impala."

ironic that i came to class today wearing my ball shorts and knee socks. maybe subconsciously i really do want to take this basketball thing more seriously. another x class tonight. i think x is slowly taking over, much like el nino.

my advice for those who are looking to improve their basketball skills, baseball skills, skiing skills, picking up groceries skills, looking crazy on the dance floor skills, or any other sort of skills that would help better your street cred would be: enroll yourself full time into endorphin junkies. i don't speak as an expert, or as anyone with any sort of authority. i only speak from my own meandering experience. i will formulate this information now:

100 + C 02 + max + rush + tall socks= 31 points at half

the proof is in the pudding. you'll be better at basketball, and your skinny jeans will look fly. don't ask questions

chapter twenty five: dance of the burning weave

tonight was day twenty five. that's one less than 6 days left. it's the junkie industry's most hated day of the year, assuming you don't count day twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine or thirty. or any statutory holiday. the night kicked off with a big, dynamic, EJ:x bang. mr junior gong took us out in broad day light and lied to us, insisting that he was, in fact, not teaching the class. all the while he was telling us to kick ourselves in the butt... literally. the junkie community hasn't been this excited since 80's night.

i was enjoying the class until sniffles kicked us out and it was my turn on the treadmill. since my boss mr junior gong was in charge of the cardio portion, i wasn't allowed to even yog. strictly speed walk. i stomped my way through 2 minutes like a clydesdale. and then there was the step... i would like to explain my art of side steps tonight. "if your quads feel like they're going to blow up, you're on the right track" isn't something i necessarily want to hear, considering i'm deathly afraid of loud noises. none the less, towards the latter part of my legs being ignited, i started to do the 'i'm going to muscle through this any way i can' dance. and i'm not talking a beyonce-esque little diddy, it shouldn't even be classified as a dance move. it was more like something you'd do when your weave is on fire. i was trying to get that flame out. and i don't even sell enough dope in my hometown to get myself a good weave.

why you dancing like that kitty cat? that's pretty inappropriate, this is a family gym. and where ever they are, the two kids i gave up for adoption shouldn't be seeing that. ahh, x.

not too long ago, i signed a contract in blood saying i was going to participate in a 30 day functional fitness challenge. this has been something (which i'm sure my fellow challengers can attest to) that has become more a part of my life now than picking up men at the grocery store. my 'other, non fitness-y' friends can't quite understand the time (and lack of street style) i've dedicated towards such a thing. what, you cant recognize me because i'm in a unitard?

chapter twenty four: premier holy shit package

"oh audrey, i look like hell! i got bags under my eyes. what's that? well if you were a man i'd punch you. punch you right in the mouth. that's bush, bush league. you hear me? audrey? look at me!" i concur. this challenge has had it out for my looks from the beginning. sweaty hair, red face, pale face, messy buns. sick sick sick. but lets be realistic, is it ever going to be acceptable to don a sparkly hair clip, or even a french braid? probably not, so we better start getting used to it ladies. there are other venues we can upgrade the high maintenance factor in, to make up for our steady increase of our exxxercise faces.

dirty, sexy EJ:x money was on the agenda first tonight. i wasn't originally intending on doing the class, but i thought to myself... what the hell? sniffles and sparky were on it like a cheap suit tonight. cardio to start. my legs are propelling themselves at this point. i don't have much going on mentally (on the best of days, let alone without sleep, food and constant slamming of my body) so i'm glad i'm starting to be on auto pilot. then it was kinesis time. i was just minding my own business, doing some more bicep curls when, "oh, sparky! i wasn't expecting company. just doing my workout. wednesdays are arms and back. oh, it's the deep burn. oh, it's so deep. i can barely lift my right arm i did so many. son of a bee-sting."

through the agility phase, i was mentally beating myself up. things like 'maybe i'll just leave and not do the release plus class' and 'why do i love thisssss?' but my final thought that pushed me round the bend to the end of the class was 'but just think of how sweet your buns will look, and imagine how much money you'll save not using a laundry machine.' so i pulled through, bent over, let all the blood rush to my head, and stood up as fast as i could. sniffles told me to.

news on the calves: i've scored my meal ticket and i'm on a hot trip back into running. well, not exactly running, it's this new fad called uh, jogging. i believe it's jogging, or yogging. it might be a soft 'j'. apparently you just run for an extended period of time. it's supposed to be wild. so i've re-introduced this into my routine this week, and i continued it for the release plus tonight. does everyones thighs jiggle when they run on the treadmill? i was looking at my reflection in the window whilst yogging, and i just thought that it looked hilarious.

i started off with the deep squats on the kinesis, which are always a laugh, but tonight it got funnier. i finished my last squat and felt a little tug on the bottom of my shorts. i turned around to deck the person trying to pants me in the middle of class, only to see big al smiling at me. after our 2-3 second lingering bout of eye contact, he smugly hissed "miss gems, you have a massive wedgie." pretending to be shocked, i placed my hand on my heart, gasped for air and replied "really? yes, i do. um, i'm sorry, it's the... it's the liner. it's uh, it's actually an optical illusion. it's the plaid on the shorts. it's not flattering in the glute-ial region. i'm actually taking them back right now. taking them back to the... to the shorts store. oh, this is akward."

and we stood there staring at eachother, trainer and young grasshopper, at a crossroad of life. i'll never forget what went through my mind at this specific moment in time. "someday, all of this junk will be gone."

i've also banned myself from group stretching while wearing my little shorts. the little buggers tend to creep on up, until clearly they've gone too far. it gets the attention of the class like there's a show that's about to begin. maybe when the junks out of the trunk, and i've upgraded myself to the premier holy shit package things will get a bit crazier. but until then, pg ej. that's a lot of letters.

chapter twenty three: tempo tuze

"my style can't be duplicated or recycled. this chick is a sick individual. east coast, west coast, down south represent your coast. we run this!" 90's way-back playback. we were all hyped up, and zoomed right through the throwback strive. (yes strive was amaza-za-za-zing as per usual. i actually taught the class [secretly] while big al called out what i was doing 3 seconds after. oh and i was the tempo for the cardio phase, because i'm like usain, but whiter, and female, and i don't run right now. ah, details. sorry girls, i just like my jumping fast. so bitch i will not about strive tonight, it's something different... read on pets)

while in my obviously perfect state of jumping jacks, i got to thinking: it's amazing how hooked on phonics we are all getting about all this crazy ish. i know i'm not the only mental one out there that just needs another hit. and then i realized, there are two types of people i've come across in my many, many years of existence. one, is the kind of person who is down to try anything once. most of these people i've managed to drag into a strive class with me. yes i have popped the junk in the trunk cherry many-a-time in my knee deep relationship with the junkies.

the others are intimidated. maybe by the intensity, maybe by their name (suggesting a follow up appointment in rehab? "i'm going to go see dr. finklestein, tell him we have a whole new bag of issues. i'm hooked on endorphins") maybe it's because every single trainer is a smoke show? i'm just throwing ideas out there. it's like i invite these people and get a similar response:

"i apologize to you if i don't seem real eager to jump into the craziest, most intense sweat that people like to call "EJ". i'm scared of the feeling. you're running there, you're wondering do i have sweat on my face, am i breathing, am i talking too much, are they watching me enough? am i not interested, but i pretend like i'm interested? should i play like i'm interested when i'm not that interested, but i think they might think i'm not interested but do i want to be interested now they're not watching? so all of the sudden i'm totally interested... and now i'm hyperventilating? do i have to wait for a break cause then it's awkward, it's like well i suck and can't breathe. do you do like that ass-out breathing? where you like, you hold onto your knees and your ass sticks out cause you're trying not to faint, or do you just go right down and lie on the floor? it's very difficult trying to read the situation."

and all the while i'm just counting down the minutes until i get to be hopped up enough to make some bad decisions after class! oh ya.

it's truly unfortunate that not everyone can experience such a high. i get high every single day, sometimes even twice a day. a positive thought about this: i don't crave cheetos. i crave the burn in my sweet, sweet abs. i also like to brag about how many bicep curls i can do, "i don't know if you heard me counting, but i did over a thousand." truth. if i had my way, i'd get everyone off their butt butts and into a strive. what do you think makes my tush look so sweet in my jeans, slick?

my next wondering is for you endorphin junkies, what are you going to do for an encore? walk on water?

chapter twenty two: skittles in the reservoir

so here we go with a cardio class. to be honest, the last time i did a cardio class i wanted to die. actually die. so i've been a little apprehensive, you could call it that, to jump back on that pogo stick , if you know what i mean. although this is a class that i can't get kicked out for my spastic hand-eye coordination, i can still get kicked out for giving my trainers the finger. watch out now!

i was trying to escape out the back, when i heard "gems, the bike." i was left with no choice but to cover my ears and shake my head from side to side. i was silent. my eyes nearly started to water as i looked away to avoid mr junior gongs gaze. we also got to break into the kickboxing tonight. "let's get this party started" went through my mind, as i triumphantly kicked out one leg and nearly knocked myself over. jet li better watch his back, he's got some stiff competition.

to be completely frank, the cardio tonight wasn't as hard as i remember. i blame this on two possible situations. either a) i've gotten a lot stronger in my cardiovascular training, or b) the skittles i had this week were being stored for a monday night cardio, and kicked in just at the right time. i can confidently say that i surprised myself tonight with this one. atta boy.

so moving on, we're onto release plus. i started again on the bike. i'll still have you know that i haven't found a donut or fuzzy butt pad to help ease the pain. but, like the champions say no pain no gain. so a sore butt i'll have. i thought i may not have enough energy to get all the way through this one the way i expect myself to, but it wasn't too bad. thanks to those reservoir skittles.

my hip flexors are so tight, my deep squats are still creaky, and i have a little pinch in my back. i feel like i need to whoop my own ass, and karate chop myself straight. there's a sign up starting for anyone willing to kick me square in the back. 10$ if you can make me cry. shout outs to the trainers tonight, sniffles, mr junior gong, er bear and big al. cheers for pushing me harder than a mama in labour.

chapter twenty one: captain shaky pants

speaking of bacardi, this afternoon was a little on the wobbly side. a lot on the wobbly side to be precise. i strapped on the full length tights and mentally prepared myself for quiet time, aka release. remember, this is the true challenge for me.

we did our first assisted stretches with help from the kinesis. bigger, deeper, longer. it's nice. miss nix brought out a pair of ankle straps which i pointed out may be a little more appropriate for a late friday night, or even attached to my bedposts. just a thought. but proceed we did, and did they ever give a damn good stretch. another funny little movement we got to practice today was the scapula rotation. now, if you haven't noticed, miss nix has an absolutely exquisite set of scapulas. enough to drive any man mad. she must practice a lot. i think my scaps need some work. it was during the first rotation through the movement that i heard a huge pop out of my left shoulder. hmm. first we introduce dominatrix style equipment on a casual sunday afternoon, now i'm feeling the need for someone to play doctor? oh lord, please help me.

through the second phase we did some sumo squats, which i thought were going pretty well, until fun bobby decided to point out my 'perfect form' which forced me to lose balance and fall flat on my badunkadunk. talk about pressure. we went into mountain climbers to stretch out the hip flexers, and it felt so good. you know, i really don't set out enough time in my day to really get at the ol' hip flexers. those baddies were tight, and i was sweating something fierce while doing this stretch sequence.

our third phase was a bit on balance. bringing out our inner ballerinas. bobbers was the best at this one, hands down. his tutu was packing some major heat. controlled tippy toes, slow releases, tippy toes with our eyes closed (which i'm going to practice at the bar.) spins on one foot and another (what'd you do in class today? we twirled), and rolling like a ball. something was up with my balance today i tell you. i ate it, probably a good three times before the end of class. today consisted of me pretending to be zen, falling over, laughing my ass off, then pretending to be zen again. (note the picture of me laughing my ass off while sitting on my ass)

sundays are probably more productive, and definitely more balanced when you lay off the mimosas. forgive me lord, for i have sinned.

and fyi... the number is five o two

chapter twenty: botox and bacardi

"i woke up in the morning feeling like p diddy. grab my glasses, i'm out the door, i'm gonna hit this city. before i leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of jack. cuz when i leave for the gym i aint coming back." just your average saturday morning.

day three straight of EJ:x. for those who don't talk dirty, that's xxx. it's a surefire sign that you wear short shorts a lot to the gym, when the first thing you hear is not: "good morning beautiful" or "great to see ya" or "welcome to the jungle!" it's: "what are you doing wearing pants?" hmm, note to self. less is more.

apart from my legs not being the real topic of todays discussion, we started off fabulously as per usual. kicked things off with sniffles and the group. phase one, kinesis. nothing better than heavy plates and loud music to get you off first thing on a saturday morning. oh la la. just as soon as we started we were finished. 7 minutes just flies by when you're having fun. so i saddled up on my boyfriend une bicyclette and geared up for 7 minutes in heaven. no this didn't involve a closet. not today anyway.

big al was large and in charge of us for phase two, cardio. i noticed something when i was givin' er today. i always look at the same thing when i'm biking: the house numbers on the condo across the road from the junkyard. i know there's a zero involved. and i'm pretty sure a two. tomorrows mission, if you choose to accept, is to find and photograph the street number. i always pretend like i'm getting closer, and that the numbers are, in fact, increasing. but alas, no distance. just a pain in the ass. i also figured out that i have a pretty serious bike face, which sometimes can look like a scowl. there's botox for that, so not to worry.

increased group traffic today made me have to last longer on the bike. that, and i was a lot sweatier than normal. wow, innuendoes much? i tell ya, pretty soon the only kind of relationship the bike and i are going to have is a dysfunctional one. and i'll be driven to drink and too stubborn to leave. it's not that easy. my cd's are in the trunk.

chapter nineteen: tight and bright

"you just popped in the EJ: get right for the summer workout tape. and ladies, if you follow these instructions correctly we're going to make your body look great. one and two and three and four and get those situps right, do your crunches just like this, and tuck your tummy tight."

it was the mid eighties when i got my first dose of neon. it was a onezie with room for a diaper, and i was over the moon. this was the first piece of the puzzle that i'd use later in life to suggest a tight and bright 80's night at the junkyard. after sitting down in my closet and demanding to know the exact electric status of my wardrobe, it had become clear to me that in order to fulfill the buns of steel that i so badly desired. i would have no choice but to participate in a friday night theme workout.

big al and sniffles scampered off into the boys change room to get suited up. and then the doors opened... we all stared in astonishment. i was sitting on a bosu, gazing at them for a good couple of minutes before even blinking. milli vanilli actually came to teach our class. the energy level skyrocketed, and my ability to take them seriously headed in precisely the opposite direction. and then there was fun bobby. his assets would be best described as on par with someone in an 80's hairband. the way his denim cutoffs remained in-tact during his squat demos left me in awe. i could hear the seams screaming. i speak confidently when saying all three men tonight look better in tights and cutoffs than jane fonda.

here is the news: i've developed a serious crush on the bike over the last week, but i'm still not sure if i'm ready to admit that i am really enjoying grinding it out. i was doing sprints in the second set, 20 rpm's higher than milli told me. he and i were both completely flabbergasted. then he upped my tension. oh ya, now we're sweatin'.

plank series to finish, but i would have preferred hip thrusters. while holding my plank position for close to what felt like an hour, i had started thinking about how neon tights could help me make ends meet. i'm not really sure what kind of ceo wears neon tight pants, or what type of work they refer to, but since i generate roughly the same income as a giraffe, i figured why not test it out? maybe i'll be in a rap music video... even though i can work legally, these were the two most realistic (and badass) options: i could either start my own underground buns of steel circut, or become a prostitute. like i said, realistic when tights are included.

chapter eighteen: the gemmers new groove

a wise soul once said "when the going gets tough, the tough get going." i'm living proof. after my hilarious altercation with the kinesis machines yesterday, i sat myself down and said "you're numba one. grab that net and catch those beautiful butterflies." stood up, slapped myself on the ass and danced to journey in baseball socks and an oversized t. it's amazing what nonsense can motivate one.

so apres work, i galloped over to the junkyard to play EJ: x. i welcomed my new burst of energy with the utmost exuberance, un-matched by many. i thanked my body for deciding to actually show up with a sarcastic "good evening, nice of you to have turned up. thanks. lovely to see you again." it was almost like i had been absent yesterday. i thought to myself, it's nice in here isn't it. great atmosphere and that. and with that, i welcomed myself back to class.

i was first put into a group with all the gimps and the boys. us three 'injured' girls and the dudes were stuck in a group together. now, is the reason the girls got hurt so the boys could keep up? kidding! started over in cardy land with mr junior gong himself. "to the bikes ladies"... ohhhh, we all dragged our heels and pouted all the way over. we didn't even get bonus points for cute pouty face. god, round one was hard. but i was singing and dancing to the songs for the first 4 minutes. then we had to grind it out. i friggen hate those words.

popped over to sniffles real quick, and started with plank with knee drives on the medicine ball. sniffles obviously doesn't know how to handle such a fantastic fitnesseur, because he just came and kicked my balls. literally, stood there and kicked the ball. what, like it's not hard enough already? maybe it was punishment for yesterday.

we switched again to hangout with mr junior gong aka das coach, "back to the bikes girls." we did something i've never done before, 4 beats sitting, 4 beats standing. repeat. x4 minutes. ankles was the leader here out of the three of us, but i felt the need to sing along. we had a sweet song to start off with. 'sexy chick'. nothing sexier than a girl red in the face, sweat dripping down her back with a messy bun. sick.

sniffles took custody of us one more time, this time for the fun stuff. lunge punches, heavy squats, lat pulls to tricep kickbacks, power situps, power squats and the best one of all, the heavy belt of jumping doom. so cool. sometimes, i felt like i was going to slingshot across the room, which i think could have been probably the most epic scene since the slow-mo boob shot in baywatch.

you know, if you ever hear me say "let's do x", you know what i'm talking about. it don't bother me, because we're all on something.

chapter seventeen: i used to get high

"7am: the garbage truck beeps as it backs up and i start my day thinking of what i've thrown away." i've thrown away the love of my life this week, and it's the hardest thing i've done in about, say, 48 hours. no i am not a coffee drinker. and i rarely drink tea. something more devastating. more heartbreaking. more monumental of a task. hot... chocolate... take my soul, but not my hot chocolate.

this morning, there was something missing. i woke up feeling like a dog with no bone. a girl without her mexican assistant. you may think i've chosen carmelita because i like my apartment clean, but no, it's because i happen to be very passionate about pico de gallo sauce. that and hot chocolate. but today, nothing, nada, zip. i have officially lost my pepper lady's and gent's.

you know the drill, high five for strive. fun bobby and er bear herding the lethargic slugs that used to be the perky 7am-ers. i'm comfortable saying that i'm a pretty big deal. ok, that's an exaggeration, but i have one or two moves that i bust out now and then on the kinesis machines. today i was all but spinning tires. trying to get traction but there was no budging. i am going to admit something to you, and you need to promise not to tell. i was tired. i know, i thought it was impossible too. but, day seventeen was a day to delete from the 30day handbook.

my mountain climbers looked more like mountain goats. burpee's we're horriffic. my power sit ups were pretty fly, for a white guy. but i still was napping on the way down. i told FB that i was tired after class and he replied cheekily "i know, i can tell." it was one of those moments when you discover a whole entire stalk of asparagus growing out of your front teeth, and saying to your friend "why the hell didn't you tell me?" someone should have yelled at me today. if this happens tomorrow i'm doing an 8 ball in the bathroom between sets. inappropriate yes, but i'm desperate. and when i say 8 ball i obviously mean eat a pack of skittles. because they're friggen delicious.

chapter sixteen: late-night lunging

it was a balmy january day, and i decided tonight would be an excellent night for some late-night lunging. i woke up this morning and thought to myself, "you know, today seems like the best day and i'd really love to do as much static lunging as possible." you know the point where you start to shake, and then your muscles feel like they're being lit by a match? yeah, i want to go further than that.

so, to EJ: endurance i went. it was interesting, i haven't done an enduro class yet, and you can definitely see and feel the differences. the best description for this would be getting into a fight with someone half your age and size, but learning all too quickly that they're packing so much heat they're going to make you go home and weep like a little girl.

big al and er bear were commando today, or commanders... or both? it was a fairly stacked class. although, i feel like there's a little less energy in the air this week because of the no caffeine challenge. thank goodness i put a bit of NOS in my yogurt at breakfast. we did everything apart from our first round in static lunges. let me just explain the severity of this for those who might not quite get it: envision spending more time creating a 'box' with your legs than standing up straight. then, you feel like you've been hit by a truck. then, the truck runs you over. now switch legs. yikes.

needless to say, things were hard. damn hard. i guess that's the point of a challenge right? everyone seemed to rise to the occasion, or lunge to the occasion. after this puppy, i'm ready for endurance insurance. should'a got that insured, geiko for ya moneyyyyyyyy!

chapter fifteen: dirty double

so today is officially half way through the challenge and i don't know exactly what i want to feel. ok, that's a big lie. i don't want this to end, truthfully. of course it's hard, i mean, i definitely have found muscles that i didn't know existed, which are now hurting. but, if i had known that this would turn into a love affair, i would have (a) lodged a formal complaint with internal affairs that this challenge is not long enough, and (b) it would have given me more time to find the perfect sized butt pads. the bike and i are still rolling mad deep.

i felt like i'd kick off the second half of the challenge with another dirty double. started off the evening with a lovely release plus class. er bear was being her fabulous self, and big al wanted to ensure that because our playlist was catering to the cardio part of the workout, and that we weren't jammin' while releasing on the kinesis. he of course gave us a fantastic demo, that which will go down in the hall of fame. bridges, and spine twists and stabilized scapulas, oh my! i also got a charlie horse in my butt, that was interesting.

just as soon as we started, we finished again. on to the next class, strive! my muscles were nice and warm, (and were wondering what they did to make me punish them so) i was ready to go. round two. we partnered up (as it was bring your friend to strive class day) and got underway with the ever famous class. fun bobby and sparky were the big men on campus for this one. they're quite the dynamic duo, let me tell you. apart from nearly hip checking fun bobbers into the ladies change-room, things were off to a great start.

core stability, core stability, core stability. my name is gems and i'm 5'-8''. i'm also a core stabilizing expert, says sparky. we do 3 sets of bosu exercises between our kinesis sets. high knees running (which on a deflated bosu had a slight resemblance of a poorly edited kung fu movie) bosu burpies and mountain climbers. we did the same bosu exercises between sets, and every time it got harder and harder. thank goodness for the great explanation "pretend like you're picking 'something' off the floor" during round three of kinesis, or things wouldn't have been so clear. finished up with another one of fun bobby's fab-ab's. and a big partner stretch. ahhhh so good.

i leave class now so pumped up that i walk through the alley to the skytrain, almost hoping to get jumped. i knew i can kick some serious butt and have dreams of heading to the sketchy side of downtown just to throw down my mad skillz.

chapter fourteen: volatile sugar misfire

i thought i made some healthy choices on friday and saturday. i mean, i didn't have cake for breakfast either of those days. today was a complete disaster, but i'd be lying if i didn't admit to being a little proud of the will power i demonstrated when opting for the whole-wheat crust to go with the brick of cheese on top of my pizza. i explained to myself empathetically (while eating an apple in the shower) that i was ready for a commitment. a full blown relationship with healthy food. 100% of the time. general opinions make out that i'm a fairly healthy eater, then there are times that i just need sweets. i swear, diving head first into chocolate cake for breakfast is a thing of the past.

so today is sunday, a fresh start. a new week. another EJ: release class. i'm excited to note that i probably wont be kicked out of any aerobics classes in the near future due to severe motor challenges when moving my arms and legs in separate directions. this i can thank our controlled release classes. sundays excite me because it's a day where you can come in, and let it all hang out. relax yourself, stretch it out, and shake it off.

we start with the kinesis machines, moving through four exercises. it's crazy how thirsty and sweaty one can get from a class of this nature. i find it the most challenging, mainly because i have to stay still. something i'm not the best at. spine twist series was next. there were times that we were twisting so much i thought i may screw myself into the floor. i wouldn't be surprised with myself if i became a permanent fixture there.

i do have to say that everyone is looking amazing. i also feel like a million bucks. i have the most energy that i've had in years, and do firmly believe that i may have a two-pack. up until this challenge i've had a rocky relationship with food. i'm convinced i was having the same life experience with food that nicole ritchie was having with hers, with a dose here and there of what paula abdul was having with her meds. hanging on by a thread.

so the new challenge for me for this week is to not eat after 8pm, and to actually not have any refined sugars. why are they even called refined? they're not refined at all. pretending to be refined is like wearing a mock turtleneck. why would you pretend to be wearing a turtleneck? stupid.

chapter thirteen: super sets world

i had spent the better part of my EJ addiction being too much of a stubborn die-hard to admit that i have absolutely no interest in the bike. i don't have a problem with mountain biking, or road biking even, but i'm just not one of those people who's looking to pack my schedule with some extra one-on-one time with a piece of rubber up my ass.

"gem's you hop up on the bike there and peddle" sniffles said across the gym, while i was trying to disguise the limp i had from that blasted bike seat. i love hearing the words 'jump on the bike' almost as much as i love hearing 'grind it out'. the only time i want to grind it out is at fortune, late night. i wanted to say that i'd rather be forced to watch a starwars marathon and smoke mint cigarettes than to get back on that damn thing. but i haven't had enough therapy at this point to know about creating boundaries, so instead i said, "definitely"

anyone who participated in the 11am EJx super sets saturday today would confirm that sniffles had probably the most thorough demo's i've seen. nearly workout tape worthy. there was a time, i think, that he even considered actually picking up a weight. you know you spend a lot of time at one certain place, that we're all confident in what moves are what. clearly we're doing a rockin job. oh, and the playlist was nearly as good as my gangsta rap. (i did forget my grills yesterday, which would have made my playlist a lot more fitting.) if i could just quote the song that was made surely just for me, 'she had more junk in her trunk than a honda. i know you wanna do the jane fonda.'

note to trainers alike: don't ask girls in booty shorts to do sumo squats. think about it.

after class i went into the change room to clean myself up, unpin my hair from the top of my head, and look for a donut to sit on for the rest of the afternoon. of course, after thirty seconds of looking in all the wrong places i thought i might find a donut (things like the lockers, under the sink, even in the shower) i whipped my shorts across the room (which landed perfectly folded in my bag... amazing) buttoned up my distressed jeans, and i was over it. i grabbed my bag and headed to the door, and was engaged in the same tug-of-war routine that happens every time i try and leave this place. must.... go.... home!

my vow for the next week, which is now going to be called 'vantastic bike-o-rama' is to actually fall in love with the bike. can i do it? you'll have to tune in. maybe even place some bets. i know a really good jar we could use, it's in my bank account. i'll tell you where i'm at right now so we can compare my relationship in one weeks time: bike seats are right up there with something else i find particularly offensive: hairy backs.

chapter twelve: double x x

forgive me lord for i have sinned. "gems, did you just go to sleep without blogging?" yes, i un-blogged. so i regretfully acknowledge that i am a bad person, and will do ab jam... twice. i have a lot of ground i have to cover in the next blog, as yesterday turned into a little bit of a guns show.

i set out to work as per usual, except this time it was better. mama kirst, big al, sniffles and myself (i want boldface) decided today would be a good day to play gym. so half ten, i packed my little bag, and shipped myself over the cambie bridge. this was spontaneous, contagious, outrageous, and another 'ous' word i don't even know. we coordinated a workout and all played like big kids. i'd say 3/4 of us are pretty much still toddlers. 60% of the time, sniffles is professional every time. big al took over, which he promised he wouldn't, mostly because he has control issues. because they were late (ahem mama and sniffles) we didn't get going until 11:15, so we had to make it a quickie. nothing like a pre-lunch quickie.

back again to my lovely little work, with my post-exxercise glow. i finished up my day, packed my little bag, and shipped myself over the cambie bridge... again! yes, i am double dipping. headed in for round two of EJx. ahh, this is the good life. i also saw junior gong for the second time. he stared at me dead in the eyes, with a "you're going to over-do it young grasshopper" look in his eyes. i'm in trouble. i've been ordered the week off running, and now i'm not allowed impact either. jeez louise. this means no speed walking on the treadmill (damn), no playing on the steps (crap), and definitely no jumping around on the bosu (rats). these are a few of my favourite things. so, you ask me "excuse me gems, what is left for you to play with?" yeah, that's right. the bike.

whilst everyone was doing their delicious bosu-ey things, i was literally on time out in the corner. just me and my coffin. not to mention that i had to do up the foot straps so tight, to make sure i wasn't sliding around. all to not irritate my calves. these things that once were a safety harness, were now straps-o-death. chaining me to my coffin. all above 110rpm. icky.

friday nights are fun. everyones feeling good that the weekend is here, acting a little crazy. and living in canada, we can't have guns here. we're going to have to pack a new kind of heat. so we bust out our best dance moves on fridays, because we can.

chapter eleven: let them eat cake

i'd like to start off by sharing some rare and stimulating insights in my cosmic fabulosity. my best advice for any post workout wrap-up would be to multitask. like tonight, for example, i was hungry and i was also sore. so what conclusion and best time management practice could i use? eat in the shower. i'm not even joking, i had a full apple right inside my shower. all the way to the pit. and you know what? it was the total best. i saved time, and didn't even have sticky hands. i'd recommend it.

has anyone seen my headphones? seriously, this pisses me right off. i leave things generally in the same place, packed my bags for our run tonight, and couldn't find my headphones. how are you supposed to run for 40 minutes with no music, just wondering? i didn't even have a substitute, not a clarinet, no jazz flute, not even a boom box. i know two things, if i had an afro and a boom box i would have been all over the run tonight like a cheap suit. we headed down to the official EJ fire hydrant, and we were off like a herd of horses. one mile to the granville bridge. two minute rest. back to the start, two minute rest. back to the bridge, rest. and run home like it's the olympics says captain sparky.

being on the ghetto fabulous train this evening, i decided to make my run the most enjoyable possible. i would serenade myself with my own sweet, sweet song. i started with some will smith. "on your mark, ready, set, let's go..." i was also mentally in a great place tonight. i've been experimenting with my new found positivity towards running, and it's hard to get used to such a drastic change. it's a new lease on life. i've become increasingly sympathetic and supportive towards my body, it's becoming almost annoying. who knows, next i may start running in bright red lipstick soon.

so i made sure to inform sparks that i planned on keeping it 'easy' tonight. my legs have been on a hiatus, and apparently i've decided to be nicer to myself. so this was the plan. made our way out to get jiggy with it. first time out 9:04. 'see, i was taking it easy'. apparently that wasn't easy, that was 'good'. shit, try less. so we head back, and i did 9:39, i backed off successfully. baby got back. made our way out for round three. half way in, my calves reminded me that i wanted to pass out just like after a pie eating contest. i wish i could forgo the standard operating procedure of my legs and swap it for a way to do nothing in return. they'd just carry on without me, and i could potentially be reading a magazine while running around.

so here's the deal. i'm taking a week off running. i know, i know. take off your tutu and end this birthday party. but seriously, my calves make me want to get into rollerblading. rollerblading... fruit boots. what the? so the week off running it will be, lots of classes instead. maybe a little chicken too. by the way, i had cake for breakfast. let them eat cake. this little piggy went to strive, this little piggy went to cardio, this little piggy went to enduro, and this little piggy went running, running, running all the way home. and she's a cunning linguist. wow.

chapter ten: ab ripper x

"hi, i'm tony. welcome to great abs guarenteed. we're going to do seven moves, 30 seconds each. we'll do each one twice. start with the hip rocker. on our backs..." fun bobby must have watched p90x last night, because did we ever get an ab kicking this morning.

woke up today all doe-y eyed, wanting to just snuggle the day away in the gloriousness that is my bed. no! the show must go on, i snapped out of bed, and landed right into my running shoes. it was amazing. i've made a slight change in my sleep ritual in the last ten days. previous to this challenge, i liked to kick it at home in my furry ugg slippers. just as i get into bed, i put my slippers beside me so in the morning i'll stand up, and be like "oh my gosh, furry slippers." it surprises me every time. not this week ladies and gents, runners. get up out of bed and boom, i lace up. it's brilliant.

so we get underway with EJ: strive at 7 this morning. fun bobby (aka tony horton today) and er bear are cheer captains for the ultra sexy, all ladies class. split up into groups of two. they say it's because then you have one trainer per 6 people, but i think it's because tony has a 6 chick max. so we're building off the strive we did last week. core stability is round one (suck it in), balance is number two (hold it up), and hinging is number three (stick it out). all while looking extremely glamorous, and making it seem effortless. as always.

tony wanted to make sure we all knew who was the boss, so he included an ab jam for us. how pleasant. we weren't just working them, we completely re-designed our tummys. does anyone have any laundry i can do? it was a goodie. i do a lot of ab work anyway, but even today i was sweating like a sinner in church. there was one comment that was said, that was probably the second most motivating thing i've heard in a long time: "you didn't come this far for 40 minutes just to quit now." true. nothing like a last minute push before we all throw up on the yoga mats. by the way, my first favourite thing i've heard is that when doing a b&e (break and enter), wear your second favourite t-shirt. just in case you get caught on a fence. very helpful.