After two weeks or more of having cut lunches, working through lunch to meet some crazy demand of our jurors’, staying so late on the record into lunch that it wasn’t worth the drive anymore, getting shocking news from the doctor to drain my energy and motivation, and having the women’s locker room closed yesterday, I was beginning to think I was fated to not work out anymore. Today, my third attempt to hit the gym this week, I FINALLY got to work out.

Maybe it’s because of the weeks off, maybe it’s because I actually went grocery shopping for the first time this year and had dinner last nite, but I hit the weights with a vengeance. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t dispirited and drained after every set and I didn’t have to break up my supersets in order to rest. I was gonna write it off that I was just getting old, but today disproved that theory. I did the first two sets of my exercises at slightly elevated weights from what I’d normally use, and on the third and last set, I increased all the weights about 25% and hit reps of 10 instead of 15. I figured I’d train to failure, except I never failed. This shocked me, and is making me wonder whether I’d been weight-training waaaay below where I should be. My isolated lat pulldowns today went to 55 lbs per arm; I did single-legged squats with a 12-lb dumbbell in each hand; my supine chest presses were completed with a 20-lb dumbbell in each hand. And I could’ve pushed out more than 10 reps altho I hadn’t the time to test and see what my “failure” point is. I didn’t even get dizzy or light-headed, which usually happens when I’m PMSing (due to low levels of iron). And I am PMSing. When I took my bra off I could actually feel the weight of my bloated boobs pulling on my collar bones.

This is an interesting turn of events, and very inspiring. I’m definitely capable of cranking up the workouts, then. If my gym trainee reads this post, she’d tell me, “I’m scared…”