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Wednesday, March 09, 2011

A spoon full of medicine ball

I've been steadily working out now for nearly three months at my little gym where nobody knows my name. I love that. Cheers in reverse.

On the days Sam doesn't go to school, I've been trying to get up around 6:30 am and get my workout in before Matt and Sam even roll out. All other days I go right after I drop him off at preschool, and right before my venti latte and a stroll around Clay Terrace mall. JOKING.

The "trainer" at wee gym said that I should always begin with weights, but I begin with a run. I have to, otherwise the A.D.D. kicks in after weights and I can sometimes be found walking to my car. Gotta get the real sweat out of the way...the weights feel like pencils when my heart's already pounding.

I want to choke those people with 13.1 and 26.2 stickers (except my neighbor, who is very nice and therefore allowed to put any sticker she wants on her car). My brother's sticker would read 140.6. Go to hell with that kind of attention span.

But, strangely, I'm loving the treadmill. I can zone on a treadmill unlike on the street, where I have to keep track of my footing vs cracks, rocks, twigs and ants (I cannot kill anything). I can finally watch Fox News, which we all know I just wuv, or Kathy Lee and Hoda, equally as news-filled, without interruption! (Trainer Boy said that they once put CNN on, and two extremely old people never came back...haha).

My favorite part, though, is the Core. I love Dead Bugs and Mountain Climbers. I'm having a little love affair with the medicine ball. I don't think Matt minds this affair, either. : )

When I was sick a few weeks ago, Sam said, "Mom, use your medicine ball!"

I love that kid. True love.

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