Day 3
Day 3 and it's all getting so...natural. Sort of. I couldn't go on the walk today because I can't walk with my kids (we don't own a double-jog stroller). This may end up as a problem, we'll see. It's going to mean I train by putting them in daycare at the Y or doing it when Mike gets home. It will work out, this much I know.
So I went to the Y when Mike got home, at around 7:30 pm. It takes a half-hour to get there. One thing good about our upcoming move is that it will cut my commute time in half. Did I mention we move on Saturday? Yeah. I'm counting it for part of my training--just you try and stop me.
The workout. I think larger people work out at night. That's my big generalization for the evening, anyway. There were a lot less Chippy's there tonight. There were my kind of people. People with large butts and flabby arms. People with funky smells and real sweat. People who don't look like workout Barbie, but like people who are putting themselves though hell in order to make a positive change in their life. I felt very warm and optimistic tonight as I was working out. There was a woman--fortyish--going like a madwoman on the Precor. She was moving fast, fast, fast on the thing. Really. And she wasn't kidding. Her back was sweaty; she wet patches all over her t-shirt. Her grey hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she had about 10 little hand-towels she used to wipe the sweat off of the back of her neck. As I walked my walk on the treadmill, she blasted through her workout. The thing is, and the reason I couldn't harbor any of my normal angst about her abilities, is that her body was realistic. She wasn't 0% body fat--she was healthy. She was REAL. She showed me that even real people can kick some serious ass on the Precor. No only was she flying fast and furious, she was READING A FREAKING BOOK. La, la, la. Like it was nothing unusual. Her pages were actually being held back by a binder clip that she would jauntily manipulate when she needed to turn the page. Me? I would have flown off the pedals and my sorry, tubby, white hiney would have splattered against the back wall.
I didn't get to do 3 miles. I ran out of time. I did 2.5 or so, though. My average speed was about 4 miles per hour, so that is good. The folks on the 3Day say that they'd like to see participants at 3 mph on the walk.
Oy. My aching dogs.
So I went to the Y when Mike got home, at around 7:30 pm. It takes a half-hour to get there. One thing good about our upcoming move is that it will cut my commute time in half. Did I mention we move on Saturday? Yeah. I'm counting it for part of my training--just you try and stop me.
The workout. I think larger people work out at night. That's my big generalization for the evening, anyway. There were a lot less Chippy's there tonight. There were my kind of people. People with large butts and flabby arms. People with funky smells and real sweat. People who don't look like workout Barbie, but like people who are putting themselves though hell in order to make a positive change in their life. I felt very warm and optimistic tonight as I was working out. There was a woman--fortyish--going like a madwoman on the Precor. She was moving fast, fast, fast on the thing. Really. And she wasn't kidding. Her back was sweaty; she wet patches all over her t-shirt. Her grey hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she had about 10 little hand-towels she used to wipe the sweat off of the back of her neck. As I walked my walk on the treadmill, she blasted through her workout. The thing is, and the reason I couldn't harbor any of my normal angst about her abilities, is that her body was realistic. She wasn't 0% body fat--she was healthy. She was REAL. She showed me that even real people can kick some serious ass on the Precor. No only was she flying fast and furious, she was READING A FREAKING BOOK. La, la, la. Like it was nothing unusual. Her pages were actually being held back by a binder clip that she would jauntily manipulate when she needed to turn the page. Me? I would have flown off the pedals and my sorry, tubby, white hiney would have splattered against the back wall.
I didn't get to do 3 miles. I ran out of time. I did 2.5 or so, though. My average speed was about 4 miles per hour, so that is good. The folks on the 3Day say that they'd like to see participants at 3 mph on the walk.
Oy. My aching dogs.
posted by thefreelancemama at 10:20 PM
1 Comments:
Go, Jesse, Go!!! Eventually you may work up to reading while working out....but beware it always made me sick to my stomach. (And I could only do it after I was really used to the machine or I would, ahem, fall on my hiney...)
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