In case your forgot how stupid I look all the time:
It dawned on me Monday that I really, really look forward to my personal trainer sessions, as a "break" from my tri training.
It made me worry a little bit. I almost, almost emailed my trainer and told him we needed to work harder if I was thinking of his sessions as rest days.
But, I didn't. He read my mind anyway. He has a way of doing that.
I walked into last night's session brain tired. I walked out more physically exhausted than I've been in a long, long time. And I hardly broke a sweat.
I fucking love deadlifts.
They're hard. And they're awesome. And they're REAL. People do this shit to prove how strong they are. I feel like I'm doing real weight lifting stuff when I deadlift.
So, I rolled in to the session last night.
Me: I'm tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired
Him: You're always tired.
Me: I know.
Him: How tired are you?
Me: I'll be fine once we start working out.
Him: Good. Because we're doing deadlifts.
And we did.
And it was awesome.
And I hit a new personal best. 170lbs.
It was hard. And it wasn't pretty. But my form was spot on, and that's what makes it count.
That took up a good chunk of the session. Working up to it. Making sure I didn't psych myself out.
And then we took a break to try to do hand stands and hand stand push ups. I cannot throw my legs up and get myself in a hand stand position on my own. It would be funny if it weren't kind of sad. Something to work on. When my arms and legs don't ache anymore.
We ended with:
20 reverse lunges with dumbbell curls
15 push ups
5 (per side) bells up strict presses (holy shit hard!)
planks (55sec, 60sec)
I had to use chalk during the strict presses. And then I groped my own ass.
I came home to this pile of amazingness waiting for me in the crockpot (with peanut butter and soy sauce because I am a modern woman, not a paleolithic man). I piled it on some lettuce, added bell pepper, apple, cilantro, carrot, and lime juice, and ate the shit out of it. This pork would work on anything. In a sandwich, just a mountain of meat on a plate, however you want to eat it. Shit, the sauce it was cooked in would work for anything. YUM.
I'm trying to use the crock pot every night this week. For fun. Monday's crock pot dinner was fine, but wasn't worth repeating or linking to recipes or anything. But this? Gold. Delicious, meaty gold. And I'm sure it will be delicious for lunch today, too.
I am loving this season of The Bachelor. Courtney is amazing in her manipulations. I love her. I still see women who I'm like "who the fuck is this?" Clearly I'm paying close attention. Why do they always show the fun, silly clips only at the end? Those tend to really show the personality and, dare I say it, connections. Make the whole show like that!
On the flip side, The Biggest Loser, while also filled with drama, is a total snooze fest. I also don't recognize most of these people, except with nicknames like "pepperoni nipples" and "crazy bitch" and "santa." Why am I still watching this show? Oh, the olympic weight lifter girl. I have a minor crush on her.