dumbells

I was flat out exhausted yesterday, and busy all weekend. I gave myself a pass to not ride my bicycle last night. However, that meant I had to lift my little ten pound dumbells. I do twenty reps, except on that one lift that's unbelievably difficult, that only gets ten. And, I only do one set of three different lifts. Still, every little bit helps.

I need to get back into crunch mode. I seem to have bruised my tail bone. That kept me from wanting to lay on the floor and crunch last night. I'll start those back up soon.

And tonight, I must ride my bike. Non-negotiable.

inactivity

ugh, I've been slothful.

Okay, on Saturday, we did walk and walk and walk at an outdoor art festival. And I took two additional trips back to the car.

I've been trying to drink four bottles of water per day. It's easier on work days than at home. I can suck down two bottles at work, one with dinner, and nurse the other until bedtime. But on weekends, well, it's just easier to share my husband's Coke.

Today I did not work, but I have sucked down two bottles of water and will likely get a third down by bedtime. Although I have a friend coming over to spend the night (we're super close to the airport, people frequently stay when they have an early flight). She's my wine friend. I expect we'll suck down one, if not two, bottles of wine. I'll need some water to cut down on the risk of hangover.

family ride

My husband and kid joined me on the bike ride this evening. It was nice to have the company, but they really slowed me down. I'm not complaining. The five miles was sooo much easier at a slow, leisurely pace. We were out much longer, due to the slower pace, but that kind of means longer physical activity, right?

Anyway, five more miles tonight. Go me!

Popped in my new yoga DVD tonight. Watched the poses but didn't actually try any of them. I'm intimidated. I don't think I'm coordinated enough. Never underestimate my clumsiness.

two thirty-one

I was at a home today that had a scale. A real scale. Like the kind in doctor's offices. When the coast was clear, I stepped onto the scale, somewhat apprehensive about what the number would be. Two hundred thirty-one pounds. I was actually afraid it would be higher than that. Last time I weighed myself months and months ago, I was in the mid two-twenties on an inaccurate scale. Two thirty-one is not as scary as I was expecting.

It's not acceptable, obviously, but I'm not plunged down into the pit of despair.

I neglected to mention, Sunday night I also punched the heavy bag two hundred times with each arm (four hundred punches total).

I just got home from riding my bike. The same route from Sunday night. It about killed me. First, my ass hurts from the bike seat. This will eventually stop aching as I continue to abuse my ass with the bike seat. But the ride itself was brutal.

I'll punch the bag later on.

I have a friend (I'm sure you're reading this) who is my accountability person. This person is trying to walk every day. Here's hoping we can keep each other motivated. It's so easy to find reasons not to exercise.

I need to take my body measurements like I did back when I lost all those inches (but not pounds) before my wedding. I'll try to do that tonight before I go to bed.

thirty-one years old

I celebrated my thirty-first birthday over the weekend. I'm old, fat, and have gray hair.

I just rode my bike. I was going to do five laps around the neighborhood, but the speed bumps are brutal. Instead, I rode out of the neighborhood, up to the bridge over the lake. I think when I last clocked that drive, it's two and a half miles. If so, that was a brutal five mile ride.

Brutal.

About two thirds of the way to the bridge, I was ready to quit. But I kept telling myself to go just one more stop sign, and made it to the bridge.

Yes, that ride about killed me. I need to do this at least every other day.

Thirty-one years old. I will not be this enormous when I ring in number thirty-two. Unless I'm pregnant, that is.