I had to blast the small ones out of bed this morning (of course), but nothing was gonna wreck my good mood: BACK TO SCHOOL TODAY!!!! Get up kids and GTFO of my house. Mama's got shit to do.
So they had some waffles and I had some coffee and when fantastic husband got home from work it was off to school with my little
Well rounded as fuck.
I invited fantastic husband to join me for 3 miles at 10:30/mile and he opted to come along. We picked the neighborhood route figuring the snow and ice would prevent us from going too fast. Who the fuck am I now that going too fast is a concern? My 30 year old self is wearing an expression of disbelief.
My new watch was beautiful, catching the satellite immediately. First mile 10:32. Rockin'. Second mile 10:32. Consistency, bitches. Third mile 10:26. Average pace 10:30. FUCK YEAH. I downloaded the Garmin app and it magically found my watch and spit out a shitload of info about our little jaunt...with a new schmancy interface. WINNING.
Since fantastic husband had some errands to run, he dropped me off at Jenstar for core yoga and went about his business. I had a painful time, as usual (ALL THE PLANKS). FH picked me up again, I ate the apple I remembered to bring (hooray for food!) and we were off to CrossFit.
The WOD today was windsprints, burpee box jumps @ 24" and power snatches. I set up a 55# snatch and the coach asked "You're going to snatch 65#, right?" and I was all "Nooooooo". So he stated "You're going to snatch 65#" and I went "Uhhh...okay." For the record? My 1 rep max stands at 75# because I'm a fucking scaredy cat with snatching. This was 10 rounds of 5 reps each. TEN. ROUNDS. So I only got through 9 of them in the time cap. We'll forget that tidbit. First round, first jump, I fell over the box in epic style. I don't do anything by half measures. I hit the box with my shins, then fell forward over it onto my forearms, then fell off it onto my head. I laughed. I'm sure it looked ridiculous. I have 2 cuts, two huge swollen bruises on my shins, and my forearms are already colorful.
But I picked myself up and kept going. That's the important thing, right?
I'll keep telling myself that when I cringe pulling socks or leggings over my damaged, damaged shins.
After all this I smelled pretty fantastic, so it was straight into the shower when we got home. Then it was into compression socks to try and control the swelling. At least they're cute.
Sadly hidden by jeans.
At least the bruises will camouflage my spider veins.
I got a little out of control with the liquid eyeliner. I love love love liquid eyeliner, but man, if you fuck up the line just keeps getting thicker and thicker and thicker... It'll look great running down my face during the WOD tomorrow. That's right, I'll still be wearing it in the morning because I don't wash my face before bed. Never have, never will. Ain't nobody got time for that.
Like I put it on with a Sharpie. Jesus.
I'm not entirely sure why I put it on, since all I did was drink boozy coffee and knit rude mittens for the rest of the day.
Me and this mug are going places, man.
We are totally simpatico.
My favorite word.
Oh, I did have lunch, adult style.
All nutrition-y and shit.
Yeah. So I did pretty much nada until supper, at which point I ate.
Fantastic husband's mystery chili.
And now I'm back in my chair, knittin' mittens and perusing the Athleta spring preview catalog. What's that you say? High waisted stripey leggings? TAKE MY MONEY.
Tomorrow is not a run day, so I'll be at the box for the #fiveonefive and yoga at noon. No idea what to do with the rest of my day. This must be what being independently wealthy feels like. Except without the money.
Go forth and be awesome. And if you fall along the way? Dust yourself off, pull on some cute socks, and carry on.
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