Wednesday, July 14, 2010

better haBITS: It's about time!

So the better haBITS have finally begun. This week I've been eating really well (with a couple of minor exceptions) and have hit the gym twice. Hard.

I attended a class called Body Pump on Monday, which is essentially a weight lifting class set to music. You get a TOTAL body workout, and boy was I feeling it yesterday. And today. And I bet I'll be feeling it tomorrow, too. I can hardly walk and have some weird limp because my left calf muscle feels like someone stabbed it. (Don't worry. It's not torn, just REALLY sore.)

BB has been great at the gym's daycare so, like I posted, I went ahead and got the flat rate for 3 months. It's pretty cheap when you think about it. And it's worth it because I actually GO now.

Yesterday I was sore so I took a walk with BB in the stroller. We decided it was a good idea for mommy to go get her $2 special. But instead of a mocha, I was all sorts of good and got a sugar free, fat free, fun free English toffee iced latte. Sounds lame but it was actually good. And so was the walk. BB fell asleep on the way home and took a gigantic nap which was awesome.

Today because my body was all like "Fuck you, you're not going to the gym. I still feel like someone beat the shit out of me on Monday," I had to compromise and be all like, "Fine. We'll just do cardio today." We agreed that sounded like a good plan so I just walked fast (and huffed and puffed) for about 30 minutes on the treadmill and then did some minimal ab work. Good enough.

The scale has been nice. I'm down 4 lbs since last Thursday. It probably helps that I haven't been shoveling mass quantities of delicious, fatty goodness down my gullet. Combined with beating the shit out of my body this week, it was bound to pay off.

I should probably go be a mom or something. She took a shit while I was writing this so I'm crossing my fingers it's not a blowout.

Edit: Said shit was not actually a shit. It was ALL. GAS. She's becoming more like her father every day.

1 comment:

VandyJ said...

I remember those days of hearing my boys fill their shorts from across the room. With Turbo we called it rocketing his shorts. With Bruiser it was just pooping.