Even though my shadowing hours at the gym technically ended last week, I was able to find another trainer to shadow; the one whose dog I like to take for walks. This guy, Luke, started his own personal training business when he was 23 years old and has so many clients that love him it’s ridiculous. Obviously I want to be him, but not in a creepy way, just in a “I really look up to you, teach me everything” kind of way. So the fact that I get to follow him around is awesome because I learn heaps of stuff.  Another awesome thing is that I just got hired to make phone calls for their business, which pays me $20 an hour. If you’ve fallen out of your seat from shock, my apologies.

Anyway, one of the things Luke and his staff have gotten really into recently is this kind of therapy practice called dry needling. For people who have a tight muscle or area on their body, to relieve tension and stimulate repair they will get needles stuck into them. It’s kind of like acupuncture, but better. Instead of finding a trigger point and just leaving the needle to hang out for a bit, these needles are capable of being twisted so that they grab onto your muscle and essentially tear it. I know that description might have contorted your face out of horror, but let me calm you back down. The needle width is equivalent big at all. This means that the tearing that is happening to your muscle is actually in an incredibly small area. I know it sounds wonky, but because of the damage each needle creates, it encourages blood flow to the area, which stimulates the healing process. Go ahead and Google an image of dry needling just so you can get the full effect. I think the slogan for the practice should be something along the lines of: it only takes ten minutes to become a pincushion, so try it today!

I’ve been dealing with some hip issues lately and to help out with the pain, the doctor I’ve been seeing suggested I take up swimming. Well, isn’t it just so convenient that my boyfriend happens to be an amazing swimmer? Today was our first training session in the pool and I’m happy to report I didn’t drown. And even though I swallowed copious amounts of water, I am now more confident with my freestyle stroke. I’m not used to participating in something that requires me to restrict my breathing, so that’s why I kept swallowing water. Coordinating my breathing to go along with my strokes and to never forget to stop kicking proved to be a workout just for my brain. In order to reduce the embarrassment I felt from being in a pool, I purchased goggles with dark lenses so that no one could see my eyes; one for disguise and two because I remember the realization I had as a child that goggles made me look like some sort of alien species.

In a completely unrelated note, before I came to Australia I was attempting to change my signature that I’ve had since fourth grade. I couldn’t have picked a more inconvenient time to try and switch my signatures because down here, for any credit card signature they compare it to the one on the back of your card – every single time. I’m talking like even at the self-checkout at the grocery store. Everyone knows the pen pads for electronic signatures make anyone look like they’ve never written before, so the fact that today while checking out, an employee had to come over and verify my signature, stunned me. To be completely honest, I don’t which signature was worse – the electronic one or the one on the back of my card – and I’m ashamed to admit that. In all fairness, I was trying to change, but I’m worried I might get arrested for credit card fraud if I don’t use my old signature. Ah, the struggles. 

 





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