Update: 207 and freaking out, oh and baby shower Saturday!
Yep. 207. I stared at the scale and repressed the urge to toss it out of the bathroom window with a primal scream of rage. Too damn cold anyway. Thank Goddess that the cold is leaving tomorrow. When I was at Oscar's house Monday night, I was gleeful, practically awed by his central heat and air. How freakin' third world. I'm so used to being holed up with a heater in the bedroom, praying to warm up that walking through a house that was consistently warm was a real treat. No darting from room to room like a mouse. I could sit on the floor and not get freezer burn on my ass. Nice.
I skipped workout last night. I had a farewell dinner with Kwanna last night about 4 and we got done right about 5:30. I was sporting a pho baby and the thought of jumping up and down made me want to puke right there and then. I texted Kim and begged off. I spent the evening curled around the newest Chris Moore book. I woke up two pounds heavier. Shit.
BUT! This is not a poopy-pants post. I had wanted to do an addendum to yesterday's post. I noticed something at workout Monday that really made me feel better. We spent the last 5 minutes of workout sprinting between two cones and jogging around the outside to sprint again. I ended up walking instead jogging after about two minutes. It's the sprint that counts, and I was sprinting. I pounded down that parking lot like I had wild wolves on my ass. The difference from when I started working out two years ago was nuts. I can lift my legs instead of doing the dead man's shuffle. My arms are blades, cutting the air at my sides with swift bent armed swings, pulling me forward. JD, Kim's hubby, hugged me when I jumped around after proclaiming "I can run!" Like a five year old, Jeez!
He told me he remembered when I started. He could see it to. We shared that moment. It was really cool to have someone acknowledge the change. The fat girl learned how to run, to pound pavement, to move with authority and feel strength in her legs. It was awesome!
I'm off to plan a tea party/baby fest. Ta!:)
I skipped workout last night. I had a farewell dinner with Kwanna last night about 4 and we got done right about 5:30. I was sporting a pho baby and the thought of jumping up and down made me want to puke right there and then. I texted Kim and begged off. I spent the evening curled around the newest Chris Moore book. I woke up two pounds heavier. Shit.
BUT! This is not a poopy-pants post. I had wanted to do an addendum to yesterday's post. I noticed something at workout Monday that really made me feel better. We spent the last 5 minutes of workout sprinting between two cones and jogging around the outside to sprint again. I ended up walking instead jogging after about two minutes. It's the sprint that counts, and I was sprinting. I pounded down that parking lot like I had wild wolves on my ass. The difference from when I started working out two years ago was nuts. I can lift my legs instead of doing the dead man's shuffle. My arms are blades, cutting the air at my sides with swift bent armed swings, pulling me forward. JD, Kim's hubby, hugged me when I jumped around after proclaiming "I can run!" Like a five year old, Jeez!
He told me he remembered when I started. He could see it to. We shared that moment. It was really cool to have someone acknowledge the change. The fat girl learned how to run, to pound pavement, to move with authority and feel strength in her legs. It was awesome!
I'm off to plan a tea party/baby fest. Ta!:)
I so know what you mean. When I started walking with my cane, I couldn't see myself without it. When I did start walking without my cane, I saw the joggers, and thought, there is no way I will ever jog. Now I am speed walking and I threw in a jog at the end on the way to the car and thought, wow, I could do this and maybe even some day run. You inspire me daughter!
ReplyDeleteAwww. Thanks mom. Worked out last night. I squealed like a pig getting buggered. I snarl and yel, but I'm learning to love getting more ability in my body.
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