The weather is a blistering 63 degrees today in New York City. This is thrilling for us all. Thrilling for us all but ME….
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN….
Instead of galavanting around town, and inhaling our first signs of spring, I’m stuck home with the shitty flu…and the worst part is…I think I might die.
I realize I shouldn’t say stuff like that (HB gets piiiiiiissed), but I am melodramatic (and kidding). You know this.
I had FULL intentions of sucking it up and getting through my day, which involved the following…
9am: Crossfit private with Tur
11:15am: Dermatologist appointment to get my annual skin check
12:30pm: Private client
2pm-4pm: Monthly studio staff & faculty meetings
4pm-9pm: Studio shift
…But after I got myself up and dressed for the day-complete with DOING MY EYEBROWS and putting on mascara-I had expended all the energy I had . And talking is out of the question – imagine Rihanna’s finger nails scraping up and down my vocal cords every time sound comes out.
I am beyond burnt toast – I am the burnt toast crumbles that eagerly fall out of the toaster with the slightest of movements.
Obviously I documented my sincere efforts to ignore my illness and get on with my day.
This was taken at approximately 8:25am, after I decided today would be a NO GO. I look like a huge bitch here and I secretly love it.
Note 1: I DID MY EYEBROWS, and am very sad I have to undo them.
Note 2: I DID MY MUTHA-FUCKIN’ EYEBROWS!!! Glad someone got to see them…
Now I am in bed and I am going to take a 90 minute nap before we talk about
WHY WEIGHTLIFTING WON’T MAKE YOU BULKY, and WHY IT’S AWESOME.
Hi there. I’m back. I would also like some pancakes (the Bisquick kind) and boxed macaroni and cheese (the powdered cheese, please). WHY AM I SO HUNGRY? Aren’t I supposed to come out of this whole “I’m sick” thing 10 pounds lighter and pretend like “I don’t even notice” when people comment on my “waif-like” appearance? …Meanwhile, I am craving the world’s worst foods. It’s a good thing I have NONE of that in our household. Smoothies, and sprouted grain English muffins will have to do…
I am so healthy AND organic.
K. Let’s cut to the whole WEIGHTLIFTING debacle.
I’d first like to point out that there is SO MUCH to be said on the topic. Thousands of BOOKS are written on the subject (go read one!). There is a plethora of scientific evidence that proves how beneficial strength-training can be, when done in a safe, smart way. I repeat, safe, smart way. i.e.: under the watchful eye of a professional coach/trainer.
I started my weightlifting journey 14 months ago to be exact. That’s not very long. I joined a Crossfit gym (CFSBK) in South Brooklyn (a 40 minute commute from my apartment in Flatiron), because I’m a lunatic, and my good and highly trusted friend (KH) has been a member there for 4+ years (or something like that). From professional (Kristin has been teaching Pilates for 10 years) to professional, I knew CFSBK had to be something special. I discovered it was. Every coach is well educated, highly intelligent, and they all walk their talk (they’re incredible movers themselves). Our gym is also a Starting Strength gym, and emphasizes the importance of strength training / weight lifting to one’s overall athletic performance.
Anyway, prior to this, I was one of those
stupid chicks people who avoided weights heavier than 5 pounds, out of fear that I would “bulk up.” You already know that I call bullshit on that now. But what you do not know is that I wasn’t always on the “pro-weightlifting” team.
I have always been athletic, but petite. I’m 5’4″ and now weigh-in anywhere from 118-125, depending on the day. My mom is itty bitty – 5’2″ and 105 pounds, and my Dad is super tall 6’3″ and athletic (played college football for the Fighting Illini). My point being that I was muscular my whole life. There are pictures of me at 5 years old with ripped quads. It’s hilarious (and awesome). Anyway, up until a few years ago, an athletic, curvy body wasn’t really in fashion, and I was still an insecure twenty-something, so stuff like this mattered. (I know. Dumb). Because I knew I was genetically predisposed to building muscle mass, I thought I would turn into a beast if I started to lift weights.
Now I can deadlift 240 pounds, squat 195, and bench 105, and guess what?
I’m at the SAME weight, but, even better, I’ve lost inches in some places, and gained shape in others (hello guns!) – I am vague because I honestly don’t give a shit about the details. Don’t get me wrong, I love that I feel really confident about my body, but it’s even better to know how much it CAN DO. Weightlifting is empowering and addicting, and I encourage all of you to try it.
So now you know my story. I thought I would get big from doing it, and I didn’t, but no two people are alike. You are of a different soup of genetics/hormones and I get why you might still be hesitant.
But here are some facts…
You would have to make it your FULL TIME JOB to get big in the way you wouldn’t want to. For women, it is insanely difficult to produce that much testosterone (hormone responsible for building muscle mass). The reason it’s easier for guys to get bigger is because they naturally produce 10xs more testosterone than women. Not to mention, you would have to train and eat a strict diet, like it’s your full time job.
Muscle takes up less space, which is why you might gain weight, but lose inches. The more muscle mass you have, the more calories you will burn and continue to burn – even post-workout. Unlike a cardio workout, weightlifting puts so much stress on muscles, that your body continues to use energy hours after a workout to repair the damage. Increasing your strength will increase your body’s ability to burn calories.
That’s all I got. I’m exhausted and in need of another nap.