My ass? It's hers. And IT HURTS.

So on Sunday, M&C and I met up for a little one-on-one action. There was running…very slow, disorderly running. There were lunges, and squats, and there was a medicine ball, which we tossed at each other, and which I totally managed not to throw directly at M&C’s face…mainly because my abs are so weak I did not have the physical wherewithal to do so. I did, however, curse at her A LOT.

This went on—the slow running, the medicine ball tossing and especially the swearing—for just over an hour. At the end of it, I felt sweaty. And also happy. But mostly sweaty.

The hard truth of the matter is that I am not fit. Whooo BOY am I not fit. Not by a long shot, kickboxing and yoga and cardio strip classes notwithstanding. I have not much in the way of cardiovascular capacity and, as it happens, lo these long months of working out I have been CHEATING without even trying to cheat. That is to say, I don’t do the exercises properly. So, sure, I’ve been moving around and burning calories. But have I been becoming more fit? A little. I don’t huff and puff near as much as I used to. But I also get very panty, apparently, from running a measly little quarter of a kilometre. I know, I know, it will get better. But patience has never really been my strong suit, you dig?

Anyhow, we’re going to meet once a week to continue this torture-I-mean-training. Truly though? It is awesome. I am so lucky, and I’m not even saying that because I know M&C reads my site and I want her to go easy on me next time. Really, I’m fortunate. She’s a great instructor, she cares about what happens to me, and in no way does she intend to ever let me off the hook, ever. For anything. To wit, her latest email to me:

So you gave me a written summary of your goals. Meanwhile, my goals with you
are right on par - I must now just maintain...... I know I am on goal as
long as you continue to write IT HURTS in capitals when referring to your
ass. New goal.....I want bold, italics and capitals.
No problem.
Yo ass is mine.

I assured her that before long, she will reach her typographic goal. Like, probably next week.

In other fitness news, I am also taking a 90-minute Ashtanga yoga class three times a week at a yoga studio near my house. It is AWESOME. Unbelievably sweaty, ridiculously early in the day (7am, good thing it’s right around the corner), and totally, completely, utterly awesome.

I have to admit I love that I am becoming a person who looks forward to working out.

Except for last night when I had to force myself to at least go for a 60-minute walk. Every step was torture. I’ve never felt so reluctant all the way through a workout, especially such a mild one. And walking, I love walking. But last night, I felt as reluctant to do it by minute fifty as I had at minute five. I’ve been pretty sore this week, so it’s possible I need a break. I’m skipping cardio strip and kickbox tonight, mainly because I have to work late, and then I’m reading downtown again and so there’s no time. But if I wasn’t feeling so burned out, I probably would have tried harder to fit it in. Anyhow, I got my ninety minutes this morning, and the goal lately is 540 exercise minutes a week, which averages out to ninety minutes six days a week (possibly a too-ambitious goal, but we’ll see). All of which is to say, I am on track.

Eating has also been just fine, though last night I overate a tad…two No Pudge brownies and some bread and cheese when I wasn’t genuinely hungry, just felt like eating. But it all fell within my calorie budget for the day. So, not perfect, but far, far from a crisis. Most days I have trouble eating all my calories (another good reason to skip tonight’s workout…I already have 1400 calories to eat tonight. NOT going to happen! Adding more exercise would mean more calories I really should eat and I just can’t see doing it.)

But those calories will come in handy if I need a small glass of liquid courage before taking the stage tonight. I generally get just a little keyed up right before I go on. A little vodka and soda will go down nicely. Mmm, vodka and soda.