I was hoping to hit 915 at the box today, but once I got home and got dinner into the crock pot, it was painfully obvious that I wasn't safe to drive. Protip: If you drop an onion on the floor three times in a row for no reason, you are not safe to drive. Instead I went to bed, got a reasonable amount of sleep, and shuffled off to the 1615 workout. First time at that time of day. It wasn't too bad. The box is all set up for a weightlifting competition tomorrow. I may have made a bad attempt at flamenco dancing on the lifting platform.
I was so sore today. My legs, core, and ass are screaming. I felt better after the workout, but the warmth is leaving my muscles now and after all that squatting, I'm going to have another night of painful sitting. Tomorrow fantastic husband is doing a ruck to commemorate the Bataan Death March so he'll be gone all day. There's a sitter coming for a few hours so I can sleep, and I might visit the comp, but my next workout won't be until Sunday night. Fortunately it's yoga, so I'm hoping to stretch out all this soreness.
My "day" started at midnight with dinner. Leftover cottage pie. This stuff gets better as leftovers than it is fresh from the oven. It looks like Alpo, but it tastes like baby dolphin chow.
I even got to eat it hot!
Snarfed down some grapes around 3.
A really good batch. Crunch and delicious.
I made a protein smoothie for breakfast with a banana and some almond milk and protein powder. I waited until I got home to make it so I could drink it in bed while I read a book. It's a little sad when a protein shake feels like a decadent bedtime snack, but I have goals and shit, so there it is.
Hubs made meat cookies (jerky) so he'd have some snacks for his march. He asked me to put them in the fridge when I got home, so I did. They didn't all make it.
Casualties.
When I woke up I changed, grabbed and apple, and headed for the box where I squatted a little and whined a lot.
I toss the cores into the woods.
I figure that's like a party for the animal that finds it.
After my workout I posted my score to the Lurong site so I wouldn't forget and hustled home to grab the kids from daycare and get dinner on the table. I made slow cooker chicken and gravy from Nom Nom Paleo. It was tasty over some cauli rice. Not a colorful dish, but certainly falls in the realm of comfort food. The kids ate the hell out of it. They love roast chicken. When you make it this way the bird just completely falls apart.
I had wine. 6oz. 3.5 hours before my shift begins.
I made the smalls some cookies to have for a bedtime snack. They keep coming upstairs to ask if it's time yet. I keep telling them sure if they want to go to bed an hour early. They go back downstairs.
Ok, so it's day 2 of the October challenge. Today's affirmation is....
This body endures.
Because it does. Sometimes I wonder where my physical breaking point actually is. I've never "left it all out there" on a race course, and I've never WOD-ed or Yoga-d to true failure. I've put my body through some grueling shit, but I've never really felt like I couldn't go on. That's a hell of a thing. The Bellin Women's Half gave us a voucher for a discount on 16 weeks of coaching. I'm going to give all-out training a go. Who knows what will happen.
Pain is temporary. Pride is forever. I need to remember that. I need to let myself be proud of what I've done. Every one of these medals is a memory. I can look at them and recall who I ran a race with (or if I was alone), what the weather was like, how I felt during and after, and pretty specific details about the course and support. That's why I like race medals. Not because the medal is so important, but because the medal helps me remember the details.
Might be time for a new rack.
This body endures in other ways, too. Five and a half years ago I gave birth to a pair of twin boys. That pregnancy was 37 weeks and 3 days of stress and worry and sickness and pain. I pulled a muscle in my back twice. I couldn't eat without feeling like I would rather die for nearly 26 weeks. I worked third shift until the day I found out there were 2 in there, then full time until 34 weeks when I had a pre-term labor. They were able to stop it, thankfully, with fluids and drugs, but that meant 3 and a half more weeks of pressure and heartburn and sleeplessness and sleeves of Oreos eaten while watching The Biggest Loser.
But my body endured it all. And produced two 7 pound little people who have been making my life very busy ever since. And 6 months later it ran 10 miles without stopping, like a warrior.
At 36 weeks. 56 inches around. 247 pounds of fury.
This body endures. And over the next couple of years I'm going to see what it can really do.
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