Friday was day one at the gym; today is day two. After a largely unproductive weekend in which I mostly sat on my butt and sort of cleaned house and slept in a lot, the fat and I went to the gym this evening because I told it that it was grounded so it would stop making new friends. Since I have to take it everywhere anyway, I figured I would take it somewhere it would hate.
While the fat was whining (and trying to convince my brain to whine, too)… my leg muscles were working hard. I’m doing a “split body” workout, meaning that I alternate arm/back and leg workouts. Friday was the upper body, so today the upper body got (more of) a break and the legs got tired tired tired. I did the prescribed warmup (two sets of squats holding a 17.5 lb dumbbell between my legs) and moved on to the machines. I love my gym, because it has a system that basically spits out a workout for you that’s ready when you get there, and you do it and fill it out and drop it in the “Finished Workouts” folder (MAN that feels good to do), and there’s nobody to whine to (which Ryan should be thankful for). I only had to modify one workout, the leg extensions, because my thighs said HELL no, we’re not doing 3 sets with 45 pounds!!
I finished the leg workout in 35 minutes, and then it was time for abs. Abs are a daily torture, er… workout. So I did my four ab exercises and felt good and bad at the same time. I’m always working to get just one more rep out of myself, and make myself just a little more sore (in a good way).
After abs, I got on the recumbent bike and set the clock for my prescribed 20 minutes of cardio, half expecting myself to wimp out after 10 like I usually do. I got past 10, and said, okay, just keep going. Get to 12. I passed 12. Get to 15. I passed 15, and even though I upped the resistance and speed at that point, I felt like I was coasting all the way to 20. It was great!!
So then I limped down the stairs and tried not to look like a penguin in an orange tank top. I talked to the manager, apparently a fellow TLU grad, on the way out. He said, “If you can’t walk DOWN the stairs, that’s a good workout.” “Well… it was a good workout then!”
Came home, had a glass of milk, watched the news. Usually by this time I would be craving something sweet. Now I’m just craving the sweet relief of ibuprofen and more, more, more water.
Hm… or just ibuprofen.