Weights regimen #2 began 4 February, and for those of you doing the mathematical home game, that means I'm in my third and final week of this regimen. After the débâcle that was the first aerobics class, Laura-the-trainer informed me (with much glee, I might add) that I now had a very good idea of just how much my body could take, and that she wanted me to raise my weights as appropriate.

There were a few changes; not many, and few significant; I may increase weight on a few more of the exercises on Wednesday to see if I'm truly ready to move up. The Arnold presses should probably go up another five pounds, and the tricep extensions ("French press") should probably go up another ten. The leg presses probably should go up another 20-30 pounds, but I'm hesitant to do so without talking to Laura first.

With apologies for yet another entry that's more for my historical record than your reading enjoyment, here's where things stand as of this morning:

I am seeing changes. I'm curious to do the measurements on Friday to see if there's more progress, because I'm fairly sure there is. My light blue shirt, my painting shirt, is no longer tight in the sleeve; my blue denim shorts are now quite comfortable, and my white denim shorts are bordering on too loose except when they're freshly washed.

I've reached one of my first mini-goals, and it proved to be a thorough reminder that I should be careful what I wish for: I am now able to wear what were, in college, my favorite pair of sweatpants. They've been lying in a drawer, buried with other collegiate clothing, for several years now. I fished them out last week and tried them on, looking forward to adding them to the small pile of exercise clothing I currently have…

…only to discover that they're too long. Apparently, they always were; I'd just forgotten.

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The exorbitant increase in the glute/hamstring rolls has more to do with a freakish issue with my right hip that appeared once on February 4 and has never recurred. Laura originally wanted me to start at 50 pounds, but knocked me down to 35 while we tried to figure out why my right hip seemed to have such a tiny range of motion. It's never recurred, and I've had to keep raising the weight higher and higher to try to find the point of muscle fatigue. 100 pounds still isn't it, but it's close. It's probably 110 or 120. I'll find out on Wednesday.

Also worth tossing in: what I'm listing here as 'reverse crunches' are not what the rest of the world calls reverse crunches. Apparently, in the rest of the world, a reverse crunch consists of your lying on your back, with your hands resting at your sides, with the main motion being drawing your knees up toward your waist, then straightening your legs and letting them go back down almost to the floor.

Not so, Laura's reverse crunch. Hers consist of lying on the floor on your back, with your hands out to your sides, with your legs at a 90° angle to the floor. Keeping your knees straight, lower your legs until they're only 45° away from the floor. Raise them back up to 90°. Repeat. Try not to swear a lot.

Three weeks ago I couldn't do ten of those at a time. I'm now doing sixty. Mind you, it's damned tough and I generally do the last twenty while mentally reciting every swear word I know in English, German, French, and Spanish, but they get done.

That's what counts.