Where, oh where, do the days go?
For those of you who have been reading this blog for a while, you might notice that the well-thought out entries of the past (that sometimes had a point, a plot, or at least made sense) have been replaced by a simple stream of conscious. My apologies. I hope to someday return to more quality output but, for now, I am simple trying to put "pen to paper") Please bear with me!
The weekends seem to suck me into a vortex from which I cannot escape until it spits me out into the next week. Time has little meaning these days except for the fact that there is never enough of it. We are literally living from hour to hour around here, just trying to make schedules meet and survive one task before spiraling into the next one.
My husband and I did enjoy a rare night out on the town on Saturday--no helmets or Hammer Gel required. I even risked wearing a pair of heels since the event--a comedy show--had us seated most of the time. I picked my most comfortable strappy, wedge heels and paired them with my favorite go-to pants and and a black racer-back top and . . . the pants didn't fit! Though my scale has barely budged, as usual, my body has already started to change. The pants were probably close to a size too big and hung extra low on my hips. (Luckily, the shirt was long enough to go the extra mile.) This, clearly, is not a problem I mind having.
Just two months into this year's training and my body is bouncing back to prime-season shape. Last year, it took almost the whole season to get to this point. This is where muscle memory comes in. It's like pregnancy deja vu; when I was pregnant the first time, I didn't show for months--nearly 20 weeks. With each subsequent pregnancy I showed sooner so that by the third go-round, my belly had popped out before I'd even seen the two pink lines on the stick. Body was like, "been there, done that."
When it comes to fitness, the pattern seems to be repeating and my body is kindly snapping back into shape sooner than I expected; a nice perk. (Though, while it's nice to see my pants going all MC Hammer, I still have a ways to go in the pace department.)
The comedy club was great; the headliner had us rolling for his whole bit. Our faces hurt from laughing so much. But, having become a teetotaler lately--consuming three drinks in one night caught up with me on Sunday. I didn't feel bad; just dehydrated and sluggish, and it showed on my ride: a hilly 38-miler that kicked my butt! The one-mile Vibram form run that followed wasn't much better; my five-year old ran at nearly the same pace.
Despite the lousy ride, it was a good day. After a nice sleep-in, I woke to find the house decorated in streamers and "Happy Mother's Day" signs, a carefully chosen playlist of songs serving as the backdrop to the festive environment. Post-ride, I enjoyed a Thai dinner, flowers, and thoughtful, handmade gifts from my daughters. Sluggishness, shmuggishness.
Today I slipped into ultra-productive mode, knocking out all of my chores and errands before noon and setting off for a six-mile run. I wish I could say it, too, was productive, but the snail's pace has me a bit demoralized. On the bright side, at least I got out there and, after two years of clawing my way back from the abyss of running injuries, I've finally arrived at base camp. Now the uphill climb continues . . .
Laughing for a full hour non-stop. That's good stuff!
max speed: 40.3 mph
cal burn: 2171
1-mile form run
cal burn: 120
30 mins lifting
6-mile run; cal burn: 722
1 hour of yoga