The EXERCISE is ONNNNNN like donkey kong up in here!!!!!!!
Yup. Last night I got a wild hair up my arse and decided to do a little sweaty Betty action. And I'm not talking about the mattress kind. Get your dirty minds outta the gutter!! Shame, shame.
First, I did 50 sit-ups, 50 push-ups, and 50 squats. All were broken down in sets of 10 reps. And each set was different. Like, first set of 10 I did regular sit-ups, push-ups and squats. Next set of 10 I worked on lower abs with my feet rested on my exercise ball. (Which, btw, that ball hasn't seen the light of day for about 42 dog years. So sad.) Then I did triceps dips, and finally lunges. And so on and so on.
I'm actually pretty proud of myself. I rocketed through all those in pretty sweet time. And I felt the burn at the last three reps of each set. My arms are a little sore this morning, and my gluts are a little, well, lets just say I want to cry my eyes out and scream like I just saw a spider in my funderwear drawer every time I have to get up outta my chair. And since I work at a job that I'm barely able to sit still for a mosquito fart length of time, this day is going to SUUuuuuuuuuCK.
BUT! If all that jazz isn't enough, I trucked my happy sore ass to the gym to run it out.
First of all, it was hotter than Satan's balls inside that place. For realz.
I started out strong, finishing the first mile in about 10 minutes and a few extra seconds (that we're just not going to count). But the second mile things started to go horribly wrong. At about mile 1.2 I ended up trying to wipe off the sweat pouring outta every pore in my face and get a drink of water at the same time........not a good idea. Since I'm about as coordinated as an walrus doing a keg stand, my feet went all shenanigans and decided to just not work. I ended up gripping the side bars like my life depended on it, and managed to not face plant the conveyor belt of death and end up with nice road rash on my forehead. Thank you Baby Jesus. Luckily there was only one other person in the gym to witness this fantastic spectacle, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't looking.
Then about mile 1.7 my stomach started making all these weird noises and then the pit of my stomach just dropped. Nice. Saliva started forming in my mouth and I was pretty sure that if I didn't slow down or stop running my dinner was going to explode all over. Not pretty. I did learn a lesson on this though, apparently 3 slices of pizza pre-running is not the best fuel food. Who'da'thunk.
I ended up finishing 2.0 miles strong. And by strong I mean I sprinted at 7.0mph for about 2 nano seconds. And yes, I count 7.0mph a sprint. Definitely a sprint.
I did have some difficulty on my breathing and keeping it under control. But I blame that on the fact that I was was watching Men's Diving on the Olympics. I mean seriously people, they were wearing speedos. SPEEDOS!!! And it's OK. Because they had bodies made for speedos.
My legs actually felt good the whole time. Which was a shocker. They only got a little weak at the very end when I was pushing myself, and when I went to get out of my car after arriving home. Thank god little Wyatt was there to catch me, otherwise I would have had a little make out session with our driveway.
Week 1 of Exercising started off pretty smashing if I must say so myself. I'm going out to dinner tonight for my weekly Cousin's Night. There will be NO beer. None. Nada. Zilch. I told Maria that I'm going all week without a drop of the magic juice. And by all week I mean till Thursday. I don't have plans to exercise tonight, but maybe after dinner I do a little Bodyrock.tv or maybe a 10 minute ab work out or something. We'll see.