Week Six, Day One
We tried. We really did. Meaning that we wanted to go the gym on Sunday and Monday...but it didn't happen.
But let me tell you - that machine that I did on Saturday? Holy legs hurting batman. So let's just say I wasn't too enthused to get back at it. But I got that "oh I feel so fat and I feel so guilty" thing so by the time this morning rolled around, I was ready to go.
Also, I convinced my husband to move our workout time to 30 minutes later. So we could get some extra sleep. Honestly, even though it's only been one day, I think that worked ;)
Anyway. I got up, drank my pre-workout (still the bomb) and walked into that gym planning to own that place. I wanted my husband to try the machine I had used on Saturday because I think it would be better for his knees - so that left me with the machine next to his which seemed like a cross between a stair stepper and an elliptical.
Okaayyy. I'll give it a go I thought and jumped on.
That machine ain't playing around. Literally, two minutes in, I was heaving and ready to get off. Like how am I still living? Are my legs still attached to my body? I was moving at a snail's pace and it STILL hurt.
Lately, when I go to the gym, I don't even have to worry about the time. When I do C25k, it flies by. And when I was on the other machines, time seemed to pass quickly.
But today? It was like being back in my high school history class, where the minutes dragged by so. effing. slowly.
I winced in pain at every passing minute, but I was right next to my husband and he was going balls to wall on his machine and well... i couldn't give up. Out of pride. Out of dedication. If he could do this machine with a bum knee...well.... dammit, I could go for another fifteen minutes on this hell machine.
It wasn't so bad because then a guy in orange and black zebra striped pajama bottoms (not kidding) came in and walked around, did a few weights, walked around some more. I was so intrigued by this man who seemed to not give a shit that he was wearing PAJAMA bottom at a GYM. And then the TV station was turned to talk about Trump's newest idiotic statements and my legs didn't hurt half as much as my brain from listening to him.
There you have it. Are things getting easy six weeks in? I don't know. I think the struggles are plenty, they are just morphing in variety. More on that soon.