I haven't been this much of a lightweight since Clinton
My alcohol tolerance is completely gone. I went out last night and got a little buzzed off an Absolut on the rocks and that was fine by me. Yes, I could have had a couple more and still been fine, but I'm content to let my tolerance slip and fade away.
Despite not having training until Wednesday, I weighed in yesterday, which was a huge relief to me and I think to the trainer as well, who probably thought I'd been eating krispy kremes by the box. Mmm... hot box... I will be having one of those before I die. We wanted to see whether I was making acceptable progress on my own, and so determine if I should go back into the restart program or just continue to muddle through on my own limited self discipline. Anyways, it turned out I'd lost seven pounds in five weeks, which is definitely not what I would have liked to do, but isn't so bad as we move closer to my original weight goal, and more importantly, my muscle mass and water percentage had increased significantly. All sorts of praise go to Carmen, who told me I HAD to start drinking a ton of water before I died or something. What this also means is that I don't have to go into restart, which I was starting to completely freak about. Part of me still wants to do it, because I miss Stacey, my diet partner who is doing it, and also I enjoyed the intense structure, but I have to consider that it's not right for me right now. I like cereal and lean protein and the rare cookie. I'm not even sure it's a good idea for me to go back to an almost entirely no-carb diet.
The trainer is apparently switching up and streamlining the plan again, but I won't know about that until Wednesday, which I, as usual, cannot wait for. It's much less scary to be going in now that I don't have to worry about weighing in. Right now I have a three separate day exercise plan, which means every other day I do an intense leg, arm or core day. I do sit-ups and various other ab activities every day, but they're not the same as core day, which involves pain and the machine I refer to as jaws of death. Now I think he's swapping it up so every other day I do arms and core or legs and core.
As hard as I work, I'm not actually an easy person to train, because I will absolutely not do something in strength training if I really hate it or I'm too bad at it. I'm willing to try for awhile, but especially if it involves an excess of props or me looking like an idiot, I tend to stay away from it. Weight lifting I'm happy to do, but otherwise, I'd just assume get back on the arc-trainer and burn more random calories, even if I know the strength training is important. Also I did not get the lion's share of attention span. I can be at the gym for five hours and still not get the assigned work-out done, even though it's theoretically designed to get me out in an hour and a half or less.
Thank goodness I'm crazy about the trainer because otherwise there'd be no way you could talk me into jump squats with weights. I still think I'm going to die. I have no idea why squats are so fucking important but I do three different kinds of them.
In other news, I went back to the Pink Door last night with Austin and that place is RIDICULOUS. Of course, it was queer night, and I've never met a queer night I liked. Only good point - Lisa the amazon was there. Now I know her name, thank goodness. Lisa. She's probably 6'1, and has the most amazing runner body. Really just a breathtaking creature, impossible not to stare at. And she said I looked great, so my ego swelled to ten times its normal size. (And so no longer fit into the Kentuckiana area. People have seen my ego as far as Chi-town.)
Despite not having training until Wednesday, I weighed in yesterday, which was a huge relief to me and I think to the trainer as well, who probably thought I'd been eating krispy kremes by the box. Mmm... hot box... I will be having one of those before I die. We wanted to see whether I was making acceptable progress on my own, and so determine if I should go back into the restart program or just continue to muddle through on my own limited self discipline. Anyways, it turned out I'd lost seven pounds in five weeks, which is definitely not what I would have liked to do, but isn't so bad as we move closer to my original weight goal, and more importantly, my muscle mass and water percentage had increased significantly. All sorts of praise go to Carmen, who told me I HAD to start drinking a ton of water before I died or something. What this also means is that I don't have to go into restart, which I was starting to completely freak about. Part of me still wants to do it, because I miss Stacey, my diet partner who is doing it, and also I enjoyed the intense structure, but I have to consider that it's not right for me right now. I like cereal and lean protein and the rare cookie. I'm not even sure it's a good idea for me to go back to an almost entirely no-carb diet.
The trainer is apparently switching up and streamlining the plan again, but I won't know about that until Wednesday, which I, as usual, cannot wait for. It's much less scary to be going in now that I don't have to worry about weighing in. Right now I have a three separate day exercise plan, which means every other day I do an intense leg, arm or core day. I do sit-ups and various other ab activities every day, but they're not the same as core day, which involves pain and the machine I refer to as jaws of death. Now I think he's swapping it up so every other day I do arms and core or legs and core.
As hard as I work, I'm not actually an easy person to train, because I will absolutely not do something in strength training if I really hate it or I'm too bad at it. I'm willing to try for awhile, but especially if it involves an excess of props or me looking like an idiot, I tend to stay away from it. Weight lifting I'm happy to do, but otherwise, I'd just assume get back on the arc-trainer and burn more random calories, even if I know the strength training is important. Also I did not get the lion's share of attention span. I can be at the gym for five hours and still not get the assigned work-out done, even though it's theoretically designed to get me out in an hour and a half or less.
Thank goodness I'm crazy about the trainer because otherwise there'd be no way you could talk me into jump squats with weights. I still think I'm going to die. I have no idea why squats are so fucking important but I do three different kinds of them.
In other news, I went back to the Pink Door last night with Austin and that place is RIDICULOUS. Of course, it was queer night, and I've never met a queer night I liked. Only good point - Lisa the amazon was there. Now I know her name, thank goodness. Lisa. She's probably 6'1, and has the most amazing runner body. Really just a breathtaking creature, impossible not to stare at. And she said I looked great, so my ego swelled to ten times its normal size. (And so no longer fit into the Kentuckiana area. People have seen my ego as far as Chi-town.)