Well. I made it through the first week. I went to the gym two days…. I worked with the Fit software one day (so far, but this weekend will add two more days to that number) and I swam one day.
As a consequence, I am STARVING… I am ravingly hungry like you have never seen. Whoever said that exercise is supposed to decrease your appetite has obviously never been ME.
I also have one sore knee that I am presently favoring slightly… bruises all down my left outer thigh (from a mishap while attempting to exit the pool today – I’ll explain later), a bruise on my right bicep from the same pool mishap, and very tender shins. Oh wait, I also have a right ankle that appears to be periodically nattering at me as well.
I am one sad, sad out of shape woman. My sense of how pathetic I am is totally drowned out by how hungry I am.
I’ve only had two dietary missteps these past two days and I regret neither as my body is telling me it wants calories. I happily acknowledge the cheddar biscuits (3 yesterday) and the three 1/2 slices of mind-bogglingly good lemon-cranberry cake for my friend’s birthday potluck. It should be noted that at that same potluck I had a small serving of red beans and rice, fresh pineapple, cantaloupe, a serving of broccoli and a handfull of carrots (with 2 tblsp of ranch dressing).
Here’s the sad part about today: I swam for 20 minutes and it was by no means a speedy swim… then I tread water for 5 minutes… I wanted to go for 10 but… get this… I GOT TIRED. Oh holy crap. The swim kicked my ass so bad that I had one hell of a time getting out of the pool. I pulled myself up so I was lying 1/2 in and 1/2 out of the pool. I was stuck, so I set my head down on the deck and thought about things for a moment. Then I flopped myself over – and yes, this was as horrid and ungraceful as it sounds – bruising the hell out of my right thigh as I did it. I then had to get my legs out of the pool and by this time I was dying and my muscles were protesting about what a bitch I am.
I managed to stand up and headed over to the dive tank.
That’s when I noticed (genius that I am)… I could have scooched along the damn wall, over two other lanes, to the dive tank… without the humiliating exit from the pool.
I plead fatigue and extreme hunger on that one.
I was treading water – alternating straight treading with leg scissors – when the fatigue and the pain in my legs hit. I got my tubby butt out of there and got into the shower room where the shaking started. Massive note to self: bring a damn energy bar with me for post-workout sustenance.
I got my ass kicked by what amounted to 25 minutes work. Seriously. I’d cry if it weren’t for the fact that I don’t have the energy.
I know, I know. Stop beating myself up… Keep going…. This is why you’re rejoining the fit world… All that self-talk rattles around in my head. It doesn’t change how miserably humiliating it was or the fact that I’ll be back there next week, come hell or … well you know what I mean.
You know what though? They’ll get used to seeing my pathetic self in there and maybe, if I can keep my head in this… maybe they’ll notice over time that I improve. Maybe there will come a point where they will say, Hi Shannon… and know me just by face.
I’m sure they aren’t likely to forget the sight of my beached ass on the side of the pool anytime soon.
Tonight is the sleep-over and I’m incredibly excited for the kids. I hope they have great fun. I plan to just keep laughing about things. They can make messes… They can tromp up and down the stairs. They can eat lots of pizza and get loud and rowdy. I just need to keep them from destroying the furniture. That’s it.
I’ll keep you posted on the Great Moonfire Makeover. Somewhere, deep down inside, is the remnant of that active dancer that I was (and this was as recent as the Christmas I was 5 months pregnant and STILL out on the dancefloor shaking it up).
Cheers to all on this Friday afternoon,
moonfire (the diminishing)