Jessica Hates Jump Ropes

As I spit out the suds of the toothpaste and looked back up at the medicine cabinet mirror, I noticed that my body was a bit different than before.  Actually, I have been noticing it for awhile. My daughter grabbed my arm the other day and said "Mom, where did you get those muscles?" Seven years post elbow replacement (yes... I have a fake elbow) my tricep was finally sore the other day. During the surgery, the surgeon has a hard time "rehanging" my arm, and had to cut through the tricep. I worked hard at physical therapy and took no pain medication to speed up the process of recovery because we were adopting my daughter later that year. I never worked so hard at anything in my life, but it would not fire. My ulna has a metal rod screwed into it that you can actually feel under my skin. This is a constant reminder of a moment you'd like to redact and the months it took just to get it to be able to open a door. As most of my best (and worst) decisions in life...

Lula died Saturday morning at 7:30 am on the couch. I watched her take her last breath. My daughter slept while it happened.  I woke her shortly after. I didn't know quite what to do other than sob into my hands. My daughter's visceral reaction was to be with Lula, even though she had passed. Determined to hold her warmth, touch her soft fur, and whisper to any life Lula had left; she kept vigil without caution. When I could form a coherent sentence I told her that she eased Lula into passing in a way that most people could not do. I couldn't do it. I was already lost in my own grief. Lula was only seven. She was the happiest and funniest of dogs. She was a teacup chihuahua, minus the chihuahua attitude. We upcycled her at eighteen months from a dog hoarder in Washington. She was scared of us at first, but once she gained confidence, she loved to cuddle and and jester for her family. When we moved down to California, she played off leash extensively for the first time. S...

I swam the weekend before last. I know, that's not interesting. My ear started bleeding after I swam. A little more interesting now, eh?  Meh. Who cares about bleeding ears.... after I swam and before my ear bled, I found a flyer at the swim club for Pickleball the following Saturday. Sweet! A new sport that is free(ish) to try? Yes please!   I didn't know anything about Pickleball before Saturday. I knew the name sounded funny, but nothing about the sport. I was not aware it was a retiree's sport.  The main tennis coach was apparently trying to get Pickleball started at the club, but appeared to have some disdain for the game he was trying to socialize. Later, I learned that he went out on his own to pursue Pickleball knowledge, which made is disdain even more odd and genuinely comical. There are some people (men) who are a-holes that you hate, and some people (men) that are a-holes that you love. I am not sure where the line is drawn for that, but I do know it's...

I hope I haven't written too critically about studios and workout choices. My intention with this blog has been to narrate my experience as an outsider, but do so with an open mind about what I experience. Yes, Swing wasn't for me, but it really wasn't a workout class, either. And yes, the crystals were strange, but that was a part of the whole experience and needed to be shared. Have I been fair in my observations? Sometimes I can be cynical, but hopefully fair. This post will not be fair. In this post, I beg some people in this world to dial the crazy back a notch. As such, I promise to leave out any detail that would indicate where this yoga studio is located or what it is called. However, if you have practiced at this yoga studio, you will most likely know it. If you do and love it, I am sorry in advance for offending you. I drove about 20 minutes in a nameless direction to hit this studio for Saturday morning hot yoga. This Sacramento suburb is affluent. It sho...

As I am almost through my month of ClassPass, I thought it would be a great time to review this service and let you know the good, bad and ugly. Well, there's nothing really ugly about it- it's a beautiful app. It's easy to use, and overall gives you so much access to fitness options you'd otherwise have to spend a ton of money and effort on seeking out, it's a win in general. However, there are some critical things you should know.  NYT ClassPass Article I was admittedly enamored with the app (also can use via PC)  at first. However, as I used it, I realized that while it's a interesting concept, it may not be viable long term for me. In case you haven't picked it up, I live in the Sacramento area, and ClassPass is currently priced at $79 per month. I have read that in other cities like NYC the price has gone from $99 to $125. I imagine it's only a matter of time until it increases in this area.  ClassPass is a service that charges a monthly fee...

What's one thing Spin class is lacking? Sensual videos? Massage? Champagne? Adam Levine's butt? My Friday night R Rated spin class had all that and more! When I saw this class on ClassPass, I signed up immediately... on Monday.... and I am so glad I did, because this "Adult Only" class was full. Not one bicycle remained open. The class was 100% female; 90% age 30+ spinners. When I walked in, the owner greeted me, knowing who I was, which meant I was the only lucky ClassPasser who got a golden ticket to the show. She warned me that this class was closer to rated X than rated R. It surprised me, but I was okay with it. One spinner assured me it was not X, and that I would be fine. Everyone prepped their bike, the ladies were jovial and excited. The owner whispered to the cyclist next to me "we should have had the booze before the class." She made sure everyone was good, and hopped on her bike letting us know that the class was basically a video class, but ...