Finding Balance

So, I'm starting to rethink the whole taking 3 classes in one semester thing. I just have a feeling that I have totally over-committed myself this semester, and I have no idea how it will all work out. I haven't been back to the gym yet. I'm feeling better, but I still have a horrible, wet cough as this thing makes it way down and out. I don't know when would be the time to start again and when is the time to stop and let my body heal. Maybe I should be working out again, but I can't see how that is possible when I still cough every five to ten minutes. I'll see how I feel as the week progresses. I know I am losing all the ground that I gained by not working out, but at the same time, I don't want to pull away resources my body is using to fight the infection to exercising and breaking down the body to build it up again.

I'm so confused. I have no idea what to do. I have actually become afraid of falling back and losing ground. It seems like it is always the same battle with me...I'm on track for a really long time and then something derails me, and then suddenly a week turns into two, two turns into a month, and then a month turns into two before I finally find my way back to gym again. I just don't want to lose that focus. At the same time, the class load that I am taking is overwhelming me. I think it's just the anticipation of being overwhelmed, considering I have all of my projected projects and assignments for the whole week already completed. I need to stay focused, but my head keeps spinning and the little devil on my shoulder keeps telling me that I'm never going to be anything but a failure. I keep fighting against it now, but I am terrified that one day soon, tired or stressed, or sick of the never ending infinite pile of research, papers, books to read along with the smattering of other assignments piled on me, that I am just going to totally give up on the whole working out thing, and use school as the excuse. Why do I do this to myself.

I just need to stay organized and focused. I'm four weeks ahead of schedule in one class, and have the syllabi's for my other two classes, where it seems that it is going to be a fairly predictable 11 weeks... I guess I just feel this sense of impending doom, or impending stress, or some gut feeling that everything is going to come to a shrieking, screaming, flailing head somewhere around the middle of November.

On a secondary note, I mentioned to my mom that I was going to compete in a triathlon. I was actually kind of afraid of what she was going to say, because for some insane reason, even though I am thirty years old, I still allow the opinions of both of my parents to rule my own motivations ... and when they tell me they don't think I can do something, instead of being motivated to prove them wrong, I lay down in defeat instead. So I was sort of nervous that she was going to tell me I wouldn't be able to do it, and that I would believe her. Instead she made a comment about being concerned for my knees, and then said she would be there to cheer me on. It actually kind of shocked me. But, in a good way.

So, currently, I'm spinning... in a mental way instead of in the way I should be (as in the calorie blasting, fat burning way). I am spending far too much time in my head and not enough time in the gym. I wish I had like a sickness timer that would pop out like the little buttons in a Thanksgiving Turkey to tell me when I'm well enough to head back to the gym...not that I have copious amounts of time to spend there right now- but I know I have to find a way to make time. Hopefully this week will bring academic clarity- and I will be able to find a schedule and a routine that I can fall into.

Hoping for the best- otherwise, I may need a padded cell before the semester ends

~Millie :o)

Gustav

Gustav: *evil laugh*

Millie: *cough* *sniffle* *cough again* What do you want Gustav?

Gustav: Where ya been Millie. I can hear your jiggles getting jigglier by the second. What's the matter, did I sour your fire and passion with the ass whipping I dealt you?

Millie: Leave me alone Gustav *cough again* I'm sick... You don't scare me, I just can't even breathe without coughing- let alone get beat up by you for a half hour.

Gustav: Come on Millie.... you're not going to let a little old sinus infection hamper your training. I hear you haven't even been to the pool in a week. Ohhh you are going to hurt so bad when you finally get your jelly butt back in that water...and you don't even want to know the depths of hurt you will feel when you finally get back to training with me.

Millie: Gustav *wheeze, cough* leave me alone. I know, I know- I haven't trained since last Friday. It's been almost a full week. But all that cleaning last week, all that exposure to dust- having to de-clog the vacuum cleaner- wreaked havoc on my sinuses.... and now not only is it in my sinuses but it's drained to my chest *cough again* so back.off! I haven't lost my fire. I haven't lost my drive. The determination is still there, and I hear you calling me over and over and over again, but you-pinhead- are just going to have to WAIT.

Gustav: alright Millie....but I'm waiting, oh boy am I waiting..... waiting, and plotting, *evil laugh* and planning my many, many ways to torture the sweat out of you..... I anxiously await your return. Muuuhahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaa

The Small Stuff

So, as I was driving to make another deposit at the Salvation Army, there was a flashing sign for a storage company that say "Clear the clutter out of your house and your life" and then encouraging people to rent storage shelters with this company. I just thought it was so apropos

considering that is exactly what I'm doing. However, I think it is a bit of an oxymoron (perhaps not the right phrase my brain is a bit dead today) to tell people to de-clutter their lives by dropping off (and then paying for) a giant warehouse to store their clutter instead.

I've been crawling around getting dirty and dusty as we set our new office up and do a total overhaul of our clutter filled house. I possess a collection of t-shirts that I have but wouldn't ever really wear out in public, but are more around the house shirts. I found one that I purchased two years ago when visiting my best friends little sister at the University of Iowa. It's an absolutely adorable Green Tshirt with Hot Pink writing and a hot pink Iowa Hawkeye. The largest size they sell at the football stadium is a 2xl. When I bought it, two years and 65 pounds ago (could be more, but I broke up with my scale don't forget...so I wont know until October 1st) the tshirt was sooo tight on me and the IOWA letters were almost at my throat instead of across the girls where it was supposed to be. I am pleased as punch to report that as of today, the Tshirt fits! And "Iowa" sits proudly across the endowments. Now granted, I probably still wouldn't quite wear it in public as it also shows off the flabby pockets in the back buuut the mere fact that it could *almost* be worn in public made me very very happy.

Other things that I have noticed... I am able to pick up that would seem too heavy in previous experiences. For example: my old computer desk. My husband and I were able to carry it out of our office together. I dont know if he just had the heavier side or if I truly was holding my own ;-). I choose to believe the latter.

I was at Kohl's on Wednesday looking for towels because usually their sales start on Wednesday (which it didn't) and because I still have 2 Kohl's gift cards from last birthday and xmas from my mother in law that I have yet to spend. So, there I am at Kohl's disappointed that nothing is on sale yet and I'm about to walk out when a bookshelf catches my eye. It's from their "Destination Dorm" section ... a black three tiered bookshelf originally $99.99 on sale for, get this... 19.99. I was all over that little nugget of money saving goodness. Only, I didn't have a cart.. I had walked in planning on only getting towels. I could have walked up to the front and gotten a cart, but too far to walk up and back again and up again again (hey.. no one magically changes overnight) so, I decide to just lift this ginormous box and carry it. I heave it up off the floor and start heading for the checkout. Sales ladies left and right are trying to stop me offering to get me a cart, to which I replied "no its okay it actually isn't as heavy as I thought it would be"

So, me... the tubby, flabby wanna-be triathlete maneuvered a large box containing a steel(aluminum) eh whatever some kind of metal bookshelf all the way up to the checkout counter and then all the way out to the car, loaded it, unloaded it when I got home and set it up. Perhaps I don't have a gun show yet, but I at least must have some form of ammunition in these ol' arms, so woot woot for strength and stamina.

~Millie

Things...and things...and more things

So, it's been a while since posting (ok since Friday but it seems much longer than that).
I wanted to say a few things unrelated to working out. after my post about my experiences with weigh-ins growing up I got some flack and some interesting comments from friends (since at this moment they are really the only ones reading my blog)

I don't want anyone to think that I am posting these experiences looking for sympathy, or to serve as judge and jury against either of my parents. I forgave both of them a long time ago for things that happened in my childhood, but forgiveness doesn't change things that happened. Everyone is human, and no one is perfect. By understanding this, it doesn't make excuses for anything that happened, but it does help better to empathize with situations and motivations for doing things. I need to discuss them because they need to be let out into the open to be examined and let go. Any experience that I talk about is simply that... my experience, my perceptions, my understandings, my feelings. They don't need to be excused, discussed, debated, changed, or attempted to change, because they are mine and mine alone.


Swimming especially is very reflective for me, because I am alone with my thoughts for an hour. The slap- splash of the water is very hypnose inducing, and takes my mind all sorts of places. The best thing for me to do is to blog about what emotions came up while exercising, examine them, find out the where's, why's, how's etc, and move on from it. I easily have 20 years of repressed emotions that I was always afraid to say or feel because I put everyone elses feelings ahead of my own. I didn't want to rock the boat, I didn't want to start an argument, I wanted to make everything calm, I just wanted to be liked, I just wanted friends, whatever the motivation was at the time, I spent a very long time afraid to be.

My intense fear of confrontation has hurt me both personally and professionally, and I keep telling myself that I don't care that those types of people, the ones who seek to destroy you, aren't worth my time, that I don't care about them. I repeat the phrase over and over again to myself almost on a daily basis, when something upsets or bothers me, that "I don't care"
But, obviously I do care, or else I wouldn't be allowing it to bother me. I think I am over-full of repressed emotion, and it's time to deal with it...piece by pieces. A wall is built brick by brick, over years and years... I'm hoping to dismantle that wall in pieces. So this journey is not only a physical journey to achieving a goal, but an emotional one as well.

Essentially, I think everything started going downhill in 7th grade for me. There was other stuff before that, but it's not important in the grand scheme of things. New school, full of people that had known eachother since kindergarten, the only one in the entire jr high with divorcing parents. (At that time I guess divorce wasn't as common as it is now...plus it was a Catholic school) I was teased mercilessly day in and day out for 2 years in that school.

My knees had started getting bad in 7th grade, so I had to miss gym class... then I was teased for always missing gym class so I would just miss school all together thinking that would solve the problem which only increased the fodder. Teachers, students, they all joined in on the fun. My 8th grade year book has a "where will they be in 20 years" at the back of it... mine says "She will finally have come to school enough days to graduate". Couple this with the war zone I came home to every day and you have a 2 year stretch that was a never ending battle zone. My older sibling was in high school, could see the expanse of a life free from drama ahead of her once she went to college. She had a drivers license, friends, a job, and was gone from the house most of the time. My younger sibling was little, 7 1/2.

I was the one that took the verbal barrages, as the younger sibling was too young to understand or be affected by what either parent was saying...and I tried to protect her from most of it, taking the brunt myself instead. Always trying to keep the boat stable never wanting it to rock, both parents felt and still do to this day that my loyalty lies with the other. Both have told me that I am an untrustworthy tattle tale time after time after time even now, twenty effing years later, I still have to fight against an unfair stereotype. Which is why I found myself navigating the trecherous land mines of my adolecsent years totally and completely alone. When you are 11,12, 13 and into your teens, life is hard enough to navigate, throw in a hardened, afraid of confrontation, self dependant into the mix and it is an emotional cocktail of destructive disaster. Imagine having to battle the "mean girls" when you have been trained to emotionally ball into a fetal position and surrender instead of standing your ground... what happens when a bully realizes you are an easy target that isn'tgoing to fight back and isnt going to tell on them.

Usually, a person like that would have perceptive parents that would realize things were amiss with their child...and why did she want to stay home from school so much...why was it that she spent the hour and half until you got home from work crying in her room instead of doing her homework. Usually parents would march into the principals office and demand something be done, ask questions, wonder why teachers were accessories, why no one ever put an end to it.
But, when you have parents who are focusing all of their energies on battling eachother....

The cheese really does stand alone.

I had no friends, - the ones from my grade school had all moved on and the few people in the new school that I did hang out with were more acquaintences than friends. When we would spend weekends at my dads house, he would always ask me why I didn't have people spend thenight like my sister did...didn't I have any friends. And the answer was, no I didn't. I would actually frantically go through the halls on Fridays and ask everyone and anyone if they wanted to have a sleepover. Which is probably why people thought I was weird, but I was so desperate to show my family that I was "normal", that it didn't matter how many people I had to ask.

Once I graduated from that school and moved on to my high school I thought everthing would be different, it would all change now that I was in a new school getting a fresh start with dozens of other girls also getting a fresh start in a new school. Unfortunately I was battle weary and really had a hard time trusting anyone...and not everytime but there were enough times even in high school where I had put my trust in someone only to have it shredded and passed around a very small school like a toy.

The rest will need to wait for another day. It's almost 11:00 and I have lots to do. I took the week off to organize the house and get rid of all this junk. Apparently I have an affinity for collecting junk, both emotional junk and physical junk. So it's time to purge it all. Off to make another deposit at the Salvation Army!

Traithlon Distance Swim

So, today, still a bit sore from yesterday's workout with my masochistic treadmill, who I have now named "Gustav" (seems fitting in my head anyhow) I decided to make it an easy swim day.
The sprint distance swim for the Triathlon I will be competing in is 750m, and I decided today would be a nice day to swim the distance straight. I figured, since I usually swim about double that, that the swim shouldn't be too hard...just the swimming without stopping would be the challenge.

When I swim usually, I swim for 1 hour and switch strokes/focuses because I easily get bored with a stroke and lose motivation and allow my head to tell me I'm too tired to continue. In order to keep my head from convincing the rest of my body that I'm tired I switch about every 200 yards to a new stroke or a different focus in a typical workout until I reach 1400 or 1500m I tend to think in matters of yards because most standard pools are yard length, but the pool at Lifetime technically is 25 meters...though the standard measuring rules for swimming pretty much says if it isn't 50 meters in length it's measured in yards... so I guess my pool at lifetime would be like 35 yards long or 25 meters long, but whatever makes no difference to me, thirty laps, forty laps, sixty four laps all the same to me, I don't differentiate the slightly longer length of my current pool.

Anyway- that was a slight tangent from what I was intending to talk about- I decided that I would see how in my current state I would fare in a 750m swim without stopping. I switched off every 100 yards freestyle and breastroke. I did this because from watching the swim leg of the triathlon in June, a lot of people couldn't swim freestyle the whole time due to bunching up of people and not being able to get into a rhythm. So, I figured I would switch between freestyle and breastroke. It took me about twenty minutes to swim a 750. It could have been faster than that but I'm not really sure because I had to wait a bit before actually getting into the pool (who would have thought the Friday of Labor Day weekend, in an almost totally empty gym entirely, the pool of all places would be packed) so I think I got in around 5:30 and i got out of the pool about about seven minutes to. A very exciting realization for me.

Yes, the swim leg is only one portion of the triathlon but the fact that I could complete the swim leg equivalent in a relatively fast pace without even feeling winded or tired in the slightest is a great sign. That means I will be able to hopefully swim the first portion and still have plenty of energy reserve for the bike and the run leg. I am very, very buoyed today by this realization. With still nine months to go, and every week adding distance or resistance to build my stamina... I am getting fairly confident that my triathlon just might be an attainable goal after all!

So, I wanted to forewarn the handful of readers that I have... I have next week off from work, and I'm going to spending a lot of time paring down the mountains of stuff that I have accumulated over the years...and I have a feeling that with a 8 hours a day to be with my thoughts I know a lot of things are going to start to surface so I have a feeling I will be blogging quite a bit next week.

~Millie

My Treadmill Has Masochistic Tendencies

Ok- so admittedly I am addicted to Big Brother.  I love that flipping show.  I don't know what about it I am drawn to every summer, but without fail it chains me all summer long.

So, today was a run day- but since I didn't want to miss tonight's live eviction (even though technically, I watch it on time delay so I can fast forward through the boring stuff)  I rushed home so I could have dinner and workout at home before Big Brother started.  I know, my life shouldn't revolve around a television show, but I digress.

It's a Treadmill day, and  feeling strong from the past few workouts that I've had, I decide to do a preprogram. I sort through the programs and find one that says 3.5 (which I normally walk)  with up to a 7.0  incline  and I think "hmm it will be hard, but I'm sure I can do it, it's not like it will be 7.0 the whole time"   Below, is the transcript of the conversation that went on between me and my treadmill:

M-  Okay, starting off , 2.0  a bit slow, geez my heart isn't even pumping....boring

T-   Oh, you don't like 2.0  huh?  How about a bit of 2.5?

M-  Hmm.. a nice pace but nope  not even a twitter in the heart beat

T-  OH YEAH?  Well How about THIS....  2.5 with an incline of 2.0

M-  Hmm... feels good..  I can do this alright we're doing well

T-   damn, you're still keeping up.....  2.5  with a 4.0  incline

M-  Mmm  I'm starting to feel it  yup the leg muscles are starting to work

T-  Oh yeah?  Starting to work huh?  3.0  with a 4.0 incline

M-  Mmm  starting to sweat, definitely feeling it

T-  getting tired?

M- Nope  I'm good

T-  Well then....  3.0  with a 5.0 incline  how about now?

M- I'm definitely working for it...but so far so good

T-  well then, take this ms I don't feel a thing....  3.5 with a 6 incline

M-  Yikes... okay I can keep up.. I'm good, stay strong it cant last forever

T-  Can't last forever huh?  Guess what.....  3.5  with a 7.0 incline.

M-  OMG hang on, stay strong.. you can do it, breathe, breathe breathe....ignore the leg cramp

T-  Ohhh leg cramp huh?  ... poor thing...   3.5 with a 6.0

M- Hmm  that drop in the incline didn't do much for the burning

T-  well if you're going to be ungrateful  3.5 with a 7.0

M-  Oh God, I'm not going to make it, how long have I been going for? 17 minutes?  13 minutes left to go, how long to I have to stay on a 7.0 at a 3.5  surely this has to be over soon

T-   3.5 at a  6.0

M- Oh thank goodness

T-  3.5 at a 5.0  

M-  ahhh sweet sweet sweet relief, I feel it coming

T-  How do like this bitch?  3.5 to 7.0

M-  What?  No... we had a good thing going here.. you were slowing down, we were starting on the decline

T-  suck it up... keep going.

M- But it's 14 minutes surely we can slow down a little while...please

T-  3.5 to a 6.0  -  keep begging

M- I dont have much breath left to beg... seriously, I can't take much more

T-  3.0  to a 5.0

M-  ok  a bit better... thank you

T-  3.0 to a 4.0  

M- mmmmm much better

T-  you're weak!  you need more to get rid of that joggle ass-  3.5 at a 4.0

M- Please, please not again...

T-  You're mine now  3.5 at a 5.0

M- I don't like where this is headed

T-  *whip crack*

M-  *cry*

T- *evil laugh*

M- *whimper*

T- 3.5 at a 6.0

M- *glances at countdown-  prays for a quick end*

T- 3.5 at a 7.0  as retribution for the glance at the clock

M- *sniffle*

T- Buck Up Cowboy, bite through the pain

M- *grimace*...  ten minutes left....surely we can start cooling down now

T- *evil laugh*-  hold the 3.5

M- *sweating profusely*

T-  Had enough?  Are you gonna call uncle?

M- Uncle! Uncle! Dear God Uncle!

T-  Too bad. *Laughs again*

M-  Please... stop the insanity.... 

T-  starting to second guess that handful of pretzels you ate at the office today aren't you

M- Yes, I'll second guess anything just please, I think Im dying

T- well, a dead tubby wouldn't be nearly as fun as a live one - 3.0 at a 5.0-  How's that?

M- more..please...more

T- *sigh*-  Fine....  3.0 at a 4.0

M- is it cool down yet?

T- seriously?  was my generosity not enough?  We can go again?

M- no no, plenty generous *gasp for air*  but look, we only have five minutes

T- very well  2.5 at a 3.0

M-  thank you treadmill, thank you

T- 2.0 at no incline----  end of workout

T-  check your pants... I think your thighs set fire to leggings.

M-  -checks pants...discovers hole-.... 

1.5 miles, a gallon of sweat and now 15 minutes later... I am still sweating, and I need a new pair of leggings. 

~Millie 

A Day Behind

So, I'm going to have to figure this whole schedule thing out. Wednesdays are going to be crazy work to pool to choir to home... but no blog time!  Oh my.  I guess I could blog at 9:30/10 when I get home from choir practice.  Who knows, it will work itself out.

So yesterday, Wednesday was a pool day.  I felt great, I mean like insanely great. I was fast, I was efficient, I didn't tire...did 1500 yd  yesterday woot woot.  And ironically enough I didn't feel like I really "pushed" myself to where I thought I would be hurting in the morning, but of course, I was hurting this morning.. not bad but my thigh muscles kept locking up on me as I sat at my desk job all day long.  

I wake up this morning feeling all good because I've been tracking my food (for the most part.... most of the time I forget to write something down in a day...and I seem to fall off track on weekends...ugh weekends, my other Achilles heel)  I get on the scale thinking "oh I'm sure I've lost at least 2 pounds (I haven't weighed myself in a few weeks)  Nope... GAIN.  Three Pounds. 

 W.T.F.

My scale and I are in a fight right now.  I'm not speaking to it.  Actually I'm quite mad at it. I don't understand how one can work their ass off, track ninety eight percent of what they are eating and still post a gain. (:Tangent: -Weekends  the weekends are my Achilles heel- I forget to include half the shit I eat on the weekends-not that I'm bad on the weekends, I just have so much to do in such a small time frame that by the time I get home and remember, I have forgotten what Ive eaten that day.  And I definitely consume more calories on the weekend, than I do during the week but it's not like I'm out there binging like the hot-dog eating contest guys.  But it's like  Oh so and so wants to meet up this weekend, we haven't seen them in forever... dinner.   Well, we are free this Saturday and we have no plans... what should we do.... movie.   Man, I have a lot of homework this weekend, and Ive got to get out of the house, lets go to the bookstore..... Starbucks.  So, its those effin sneaky little calories that are apparently killing me.  I don't know.. it just pisses me off to no end.     :end Tangent: )  

I told myself that I wasn't going to look at the scale, because this has been going on for 2 years now. I swim and swim and swim and swim and swim til I practically have effing gills growing out of my neck- and I've been stuck at  the same weight forEVER.  The first 65 flew off.  Now..here I am still stuck in tubby hood...posting a three pound gain after spending two weeks swim bike running. I hate it. 

So, I am breaking up with my scale until October 1st.  Depending on how this works out, we'll see if the once a month thing will be regular or if I will just break up with my scale for good.  

The scale and I have never really had a great relationship anyway.  It has always been a fear filled anxiety ridden experience for me for as long as I can remember.  And actually, the year before my wedding, my now husband-then fiance- suggested we go on a diet together and to start that diet, we would have a public weigh in, so we each knew each others goals.    I couldn't do it.  I actually broke down into a hyperventilating crying mess.  It freaked me out to no end to have him stand over the scale and look at it.  And I don't think it really had to do with embarrassment over how much I weighed, because we'll we've both sort of gained weight together over the years.. but it brought so much flooding back from when I was a kid and I would have weekly weigh-ins.  I remember I would have to get the scale out of the bathroom that was in our downstairs and bring it into the kitchen, next to the kitchen table so that my mom could see how much I weighed...and I would be petrified.  There were numerous times where I would try and move the needle back into the negative, and hope she didn't notice when I stepped off the scale again.  I don't really remember the consequences for gaining weight.  My dad says my mom would hit me, but honestly I don't remember.  And I'm not trying to accuse anyone of anything or let anyone off the hook for anything- it's literally a black spot.  

I do remember getting dragged out of bed forcibly, sometimes by my hair, and sent into the basement to do Jane Fonda while my mom drove my sister to school.   For the first couple days, afraid that she would turn around and come back to spot check me, I would do it... but eventually when I knew she wasn't going to spot check me or have a hidden camera anywhere I would shut off the tape and watch cartoons for forty minutes, and then fast forward the tape 40 minutes, and make like I had been working out the whole time when she would come home from dropping her off and make like I'd been doing it the whole time.  

When the Jane Fonda workouts failed, I was shipped off to fat camp in California.  After the Monika Lewinsky book came out, and she says she was sent to fat camp as well, my mom insists that we were at the same one, that she remembers me calling home complaining about a mean older girl named Monika.  *shrugs*  I don't remember that either, but I was only 9.

At nine, I wasn't really a tragically heavy kid either...I'm sure had I been in an encouraging family instead of a discouraging family, I may have turned out normal...well fairly normal anyway.  

Alright, that's enough of a trip down memory lane for the night.

~Millie

Murphy's Law

Today was a bike day, mainly because my whole schedule has gotten turned upside between the start of classes, the blowing off of weekend workouts and the shuffling of things. I'm going to have to figure this out better, but for now (until my other class starts next Tuesday) it's a bike day. Anyhow, because today is a bike day and tomorrow will be a swim day (I have choir on Wednesdays and I don't want to go to choir practice all grody and smelly from huffy puffy cycling) so alas no Cycle Fit class.

I get to the gym only to discover the swimming pool TOTALLY empty. Figures. The one time I don't have my swim gear and I could have enjoyed the wide-openness of a lap pool all to myself. It would have been a slice of heaven, as tempted as I was to swim in my leggings and tshirt I figured the gym probably wouldn't appreciate that so I headed upstairs.

So, no Cycle Fit class on Tuesdays. Instead, I grab a bike on my own and choose a little pre-progammed workout. I huff and puff my way through 30 minutes.. okay .. I didn't really huff and puff. I sweat like a pig but no huffing or puffing. Thanks to my triathlon inspiration friend, I now have learned how to pedal properly (with the heel not with the toe) and did a thirty minute program, managing to go in that time frame six miles. Six miles, not bad. Definitely not triathlon pace but good enough for now. That's two miles every ten minutes, a mile every five. Hey.. at least I bike a faster mile than run/walk :-) And I feel great, not tired, nice and sweaty, on an endorphin high I guess.

I leave the gym and head to the grocery store to pick up a few things and drop off a Redbox movie. Forgetting that I'm in my huffy puffy clothes (the bottoms being spandex pants that we already discovered are NOT my friends) I walk into the grocery store and shop unabashed in pants that expose every wiggle and jiggle. Of course, then comes the checkout... it would figure that I would run into someone from my church choir at the checkout. And I'm all like "yeah I'm all sweaty from the gym" and they're all like "ohhhhh how nice"...looking at me wondering exactly what I could possibly have been doing at a gym.

I finish at the gym and being fairly hungry and not wanting to have to wait to cook something when I finally made it home, I decide to stop at Subway... where I run into yet another choir member. Unbelievable. So now, not one, but two choir members have seen my jiggly joggly ass...and as I'm kneeling in church on Sunday (its a church choir) the two of them are going to be like "thank you god she is not wearing spandex again today, had she, I may have had to poke out my retinas.

The whole summer, I haven't seen one choir member, not one. And yet the one day I'm covered in sweat, all my jiggles hanging in the wind, I run into not one, but two.

Don't know what I did to Murphy, but apparently he felt I needed three lessons today.

:-)

~Millie