I pretty much won at Sunday, except for the going to bed part. Woke up, threw dinner in the crockpot, jetted to spin class, boogied over to Brooklyn where I had brunch at the restaurant next to the theater, made BFF with all the owners, got free coffee, danced at rehearsal, good production meeting (omg my costume!!!!!), then home to my beef and sweet potato stew & Downton Abbey. Technically I was sitting on my bed at midnight, but I was going back and forth over script edits until 12:30pm.
Monday at lunchtime I snuck out to a Soul Cycle class. I've only tried it once, and was simultaneously repelled by and attracted to the brainwashing and evil genius level of branding. Also, I wanted to get a look at the new NoHo location, and Tomas, who used to teach at Crunch, was leading the only exercise class that fit into my schedule that day, so off I went.
The bathrooms and locker area are immaculate, but there's no good changing area. I think you're just supposed to show up in your Lululemon workout gear, get on the "Soul Bike" and then get back to the rest of your trophy wife life. And I can be down with that. As with everything in my life, I was feeling a little "one of these things is not like the other" when all the other women in matching black Lululemon tanks took bikes in the same two rows across from the instructor, whereas I saddled up all alone in the side section, front row, wearing my "I <3 Sweat" t-shirt, ready to kiss up to Tomas and his playlist. Just before class, Kelly Bensimon, one of the Real Housewives of New York, sauntered into the front row, her gorgeous blowout hanging over her shoulders. Really, Kelly? You can't possibly be serious about sweating if you're wearing your hair down. But I was also really excited that my spin class got just 100% more famous. Then Kelly put her hair up, and I was like, ok, Kelly, you can stay. Then the clouds parted and a chorus of angles sang, and in came our instructor,Tomas. I'd forgotten how much he resembled a Greek god. He turned off the lights, climbed onto the spin bike, which was magically surrounded by lit candles (when did that happen?), and told us to close our eyes and "think about what brought you here, and what you want, and how you're going to work here today to go after what you want." I closed my eyes and prayed, "Dear Adonis-Tomas, I want to be really famous, more than Kelly Bensimon. Thank you. Amen." It was kind of cheesy, but I was really digging worshipping at the altar of Adonis-Tomas. Maybe next time I'l bring flowers, or a dead goat, and lay them in front of his spin bike for extra bonus points.
Adonis-Tomas' playlist was full of disco, and Kelly Clarkson and Madonna, and dance moves and combinations. I hate the arm weights sections that spin studios make you do, because, hello, that's what I have Buffin for, and their puny 1lb weights are just lame and boring. And I wish there was more resistance cueing, because it wasn't as hard as Carl's class. BUT, I loved Tomas' list, and I love Tomas, and he and I were singing along, and when he shouted to me "I heart sweat, too!" I pretty much almost proposed to him. Secretly. To myself. Inside my sweaty heart. So there I was, Monday afternoon, hooting and hollering next to a Greek god, smiling and singing along, being my own rainbow, etc., and showing a group of super-serious Real Housewife look-alikes, and one real Real Housewife, just how it should be done. Boom, Kelly Bensimon, BOOM!
Yesterday's workout was very exciting mainly because I was wearing my new "skeggings" - skirt + leggings. Buffin & I did a lot of circuits that involved running, burpees kettle bells, lunges with weights and loads of floor pushups (which Buffin described as "American badass"). Fraidy stopped by before she went for a run. She was wearing really sassy running pants, and I was proud to know her. (Every time Fraidy leaves, Anthony gushes about Fraidy and what a rockstar she is. Fraidy, I know he bosses you around, but it's because he luuuuuurvs you). Fraidy & I chatted while Buffin stretched my hamstring, which meant I was carrying on a three-way conversation while in an awkwardly intimate position and trying not to scream in pain. Oh, gym people and their idea of boundaries.
On Tuesdays, Anthony and Buffin train their clients next to each other, which means Anthony and Buffin do a lot of heckling and trash talking, while I try to mediate by saying things like, "Yes, Anthony, your muscles ARE smaller than Buffin's, but you have big muscles where it counts. Like in your heart." And then Anthony trash talks Buffin, but we can't really understand what he's saying because of his British accent and his veganism. Meanwhile, Anthony's poor client is band walking and wondering what the heck is going on. I love Buffin and Anthony because when I say things like, "Does my skirt make me look good when I work out?" they take me seriously and then have a long discussion about the cutout in the back of my tank top while I'm doing pushups. I love you long time, boys.
p.s. Sassletic is teaching a yoga class to benefit my show. If you're in NYC, you're definitely invited to join. Info here: http://www.facebook.com/events/132921503543942
Friday evening yoga with Domenic at Yoga Vida, just as the snow was falling. It was warm, humid class, with lots of advanced asanas. I headed out into the slippery streets, a little damp but with an open heart, for cocktails and dinner with a lady friend, whom I adore but don't see often. I love lady friends, cocktails, gossip, and holding hands with friends so we don't slip in the streets.
Naughty Flog: Two dirty martinis, and a glass of champagne. I regret nothing, because the martinis were served in small glasses, and made with red olives, so they were pink. Champagne was meant to be drunk while watching the snow fall and the bubbles rise.
Sassletic & I have befriended a handsome trainer at Crunch. He sent me an adorable and formal invitation to a spin class. Afterwards, we had coffee and he walked me to the train so I could jet to rehearsal. It's incredibly refreshing to be in the company of a gentleman. Manners are always endearing.
Naughty Flog: Chocolate chip cookie at rehearsal, free wine at a benefit, which I drank mainly because I was grumpy that I was there and not watching Downton Abbey.
Buffin had me warm up with jumping jacks this morning. I was very enthusiastic about them - so enthusiastic that I landed on one of treadmill outlets, which caused it to power down while a man was still running on it. Buffin and I ran immediately into the big boyz section before we could be blamed. Then he proceeded to tell me I was perfect and amazing while doing the following things: squats, shoulder presses, one handed chest-presses with a 20lb barbell, floor pushups, lunges, one -handed rope machine pulls, and vertical jumps. Buffin also complimented my new workout pants from Old Navy. There you have it: Old Navy activewear- von Hottie & Buffin approved!
Naughty Flog: I had a little donut sample at my coffee shop, BUT I didn't put sugar in my coffee so I think it evens out. I tricked myself into pretending cinnamon=sugar, and it pretty much worked.
You know what's super fun? Teaming up with Buffin's lady love by posting shirtless pictures of him on Instagram. Now that we're BFF, I have lots of access to shirtless pictures of Buffin, and that's a good thing. You know what's even more fun? Every time I enter the gym, all the trainers give me hugs. Buffin has to tear me away to the big boyz section because I'm practically sitting on all the big boys laps.
Thursday's workout: Buffin lays me on a foam roller for a series of crunches. I assume it's for my alignment. No, it's because it's harder that way, duh. We do lots of pulldowns and cable rows, and then he takes me to the big barbells, and I deadlift 135lbs. NO BIG DEAL, I'M JUST THAT STRONG, WHOA. Then I threw a temper tantrum at the TRX station because bicep curls are boring and Buffin instructed me to do it "like you're punching yourself in the face." After I finished stomping my feet, we did gorilla pullups on the assisted pull-up machine (that's where you let go of the bar for a second at the top of the pull-up). In between sets, I told Buffin about my pre-natal yoga debacle, and we invented a fun game: Things You Can't Say In A Pre-Natal Yoga Class. Example 1: "Oh my god, I'm so hungover." Fun, right? Now you try it.
p.s. Buffin's lady love has joined the Dawn Patrol challenge. My obsession with Buffin is so 2012. 2013 is all about his girlfriend. Sorry, Buffin, but you don't know how to use the internet, and she does. Please meet the lovely ExSoyCise. Introduce yourself. She's great, and very generous with hot pictures of her hot boyfriend.
ExSoyCise's profile: http://www.socialworkout.com/user/show/38314
Yesterday was an epic fitness day in three parts. Get cozy, it's a big story:
I) I took a morning Physique 57 class with a lady friend. I've always been curious about just what kind of workout Kelly Ripa is doing! It was a pretty intense toning workout, lots of jiggling, squatting, and thrusting of things while on your tippy toes. I was in an intermediate class, so I felt like an impostor floppy fish floundering in a sea of lithe Lululemon dolphins. My muscles were burning, but I was also still sore from the previous day's workout with Buffin. When you take your first class, you get a second one for free, so I'll definitely go again. If I were to go regularly, I'd have to invest in a lot of Lululemon clothing, and I'm in a fight with Lululemon for not offering bigger sizes, so that's not going to happen. Something tells me I can't wear my tutu or leopard leggings to P57. Also, I was hoping the bathrooms would have gold plaques that said, "Kelly Ripa pees here," but instead there were a lot of inspirational quotes about strength and empowerment. I appreciate that the philosophical emphasis is on strength, empowerment, and working past your limits, but let's be real, we were all there to get Kelly Ripa's butt. My butt, however, was not sore today like it is after I work out with Buffin. That's okay. I'll take Buffin's butt, and Kelly Ripa can keep her butt, and we'll both be fine.
II) I fell into an internet stalking rabbit hole, and found Buffin's girlfriend's blog, Twitter and Instagram, which is all about exercising and not eating soy. Her Instagram feed is full of pictures of making out with Buffin (My eyes! My eyes! I'm blind!) and pictures of Buffin without a shirt sleeping next to a dog (Thank you, Jesus, I can see again!). I'm part of this wild text message chain between Buffin, his girlfriend, and another client, so I felt that I had to come clean about my stalking, but then Buffin's girlfriend found ME on Twitter, and Instagram, and everywhere else, and retweeted everything I've ever said about Buffin. MORTIFYING! TOTALLY BUSTED! What is the polite way to say, "Sorry I've been perving out on your boyfriend and giving the allusion that we are involved in a deeply passionate fitness-based affair for the past two years?" Is there a SomeECard for that? The upside is that we are now super BFF, and she doesn't seem to mind my blatant objectifying of her man. But still...it's like having your crush find the note you wrote about him in class, in code, but not very good code.
III) I was so wound up from this big reveal of Buffin's lady's internet life, I had to go to Yoga Vida. The class was taught by Cat, who also teaches pre-natal yoga. Since I was already in full confessional mode, I blurted out at check-in that it was my dream to take pre-natal yoga with her. I don't know why but I've always wanted to sit in a yoga room full of pregnant women. Maybe it's because I like to rub my belly. I was hoping Cat would say, "No need to be pregnant, come anyway!" Instead, she laughed and said as soon as I was pregnant, I was welcome. Isn't that discrimination???? Thankfully, class started before I could further embarrass myself with an awkward explanation of my current love life. Anyway, class was wonderful. And, now that Buffin is regularly populating my Instagram feed, maybe his bare pecs will virtually impregnate me and I can finally go to a damn pre-natal class.
Does anyone use the Timehop app on their phone? I'm obsessed with it. I post something on Facebook or Twitter pretty much every day, so every morning Timehop tells me what I was doing on this day last year, and the year before, and the year before that, and sometimes even four years ago [Sidenote: Why does anyone follow me on Twitter? All I do is brag about Buffin and talk about champagne]. Yesterday, Timehop informed me that two years ago was the first time I was able to climb the silks. I made two little progressions up the silk and then took a victory lap. Time capsules are adorable. In honor of my second anniversary of my two progressions, I felt up all my rock-hard muscles and took myself to aerial silks class, where I worked on my new ankle hang. First, I had to climb way up high. That was scary, so I made my feet into a treehouse and just hung out for while until I adjusted to the new altitude. Then I did a cross back straddle (butt over head, way up high, no boost!), and then my fancy ankle hang! And my head was nowhere near the mat! BUT, once you go upside down, you have to get back up. I thought butt over head was hard, but getting your head back over your butt is even harder. It's like the world's worst sit-up, which is why I called over my lovely assistant, Mama Silk, to spot me on the way up. Buffin is formulating all sorts of torture devices to improve my full body sit-up. I would be afraid, but it just means I'll invent new ways for him to touch me while I exercise.
Naughty flog: A delicious pear sidecar, which was necessary to fortify myself for a conversation about arts fundraising, and a ginger cookie. I regret nothing.
(Two years ago: http://socialworkout.com/stream/show/22947)
First workout with Buffin 2013, and it took 3 days for my thighs to recover.
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