No Long As Quote For A Title Today

I ran to work again yesterday.  Another 6.2 miles on the clock.

My employees are fascinated by my fitness.  "How far do you live from the office?"  "Did you really jog to work?"  "Don't you also bike to work?" "How far??"

I hope that it's inspirational, and they're not just judging me by how my fair smells all day.  So hard to get the hair feeling nice.  People with short hair have it so much easier sometimes.

The run was not great.  My calves, hips, and quads were super tight.  It wasn't the worst run I've had, not by a long shot.  It wasn't a run I'd write love letters to.  I'm sure the backpack doesn't help.  I feel like it hinders my arm swing.  I don't know if that's accurate or I'm just paranoid, but the feeling's there.

After work I walked to my trainer's apartment, because it was hot as balls and I didn't feel like running.

Workout:

Stretches:  Inch worm, torso twist lunges, scissor kicks, other awful things.

x8 (no rest between sets except what's listed)
30 seconds kettlebell high pulls
30 seconds rest
30 seconds jumping pull ups
30 seconds rest
30 seconds rope slams
30 seconds rest
30 seconds kettlebell swings
30 seconds rest

How is it possible that 30 seconds can feel like it takes forever, then the next thirty seconds can go by far too fast?  I understand time does not exist outside of our perceptions, and our perceptions are not accurate when it comes to representing lengths of time, but it's still frustrating to experience such a juxtaposition.  My arms were fucking tired!

And then my trainer stretched me out until I almost cried.  My left hip is fucking tiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.  And for once that's not a compliment.  My trainer's current theory is that my right leg has to overcompensate, and that's why I'm feeling things more in my right hip.  It's an interesting theory, but it doesn't change what I have to do:  stretch more.  FUN.



My eating has been walking a balance beam.  This is a positive change, because I am making an effort to consistently provide myself good food to fuel my body.  I'm just supplementing it with deep fried hot dog wraps and twinkies.  But I've rationalized that as long as I'm eating the good food, the shitty food won't do that much damage to me.  At least not at this stage in my life/training, when I'm in tip top shape.

To brag a little bit (well, a little bit more.  Gone are the days of livejournal pity parties.  Blogs now seem to be all about bragging.  Why else would you deem yourself worthy to tell strangers about your life?).  I'm now on day four of no caffeine.  I was up at 6:45am, so it hasn't cured my sleep issues, but it seems to be helping a little bit.  And the side effects?  Almost none.  I had a few tiny headaches on day one, but since then it's business as usual in cuerpo de rosa.  My body is a well oiled machine.  When I oil it up.  Usually it's just a machine.  And minus this muscle tightness, it's doing what I want.  Which is pretty swell.  Being 30 has yet to let me down.  Everything has come up Milhouse thus far.

Plus, the men in my life are fucking adorable.



So, since I basically bragged about shitting fine sans caffeine (what, that's not what you read between the lines?  See, that's why I'm spelling it out for you.  POOP.  POOP.  POOP.  Jesus.  Get with the program), why don't you brag about something that normal people don't brag about, but you've been itching to boast about.

Oh, I have another one:  I am super proud of myself for being able to navigate home from anywhere in the area.  Which, um, I've lived here for a long time.  This is not something that should instill pride in me.  And yet, it does.  Which speaks to my need for greater achievements in my life, I guess.

So, your turn.