I've discovered an interesting correlation. It turns out that when I don't eat chocolate until my stomach hurts before I got to bed, waking up in the morning is significantly easier. I first started to suspect this during Valentine's week, when my students showered me in chocolate.
|This doesn't even include the ones that arrived from Eric, or the next day from a kid who was absent.|
Valentine's Day was on a Tuesday, and let's just say very few of those chocolates made it to the weekend. That week I could barely drag myself out of bed by 6:30 to squeak in a 3 mile easy run.
This week, I've tried to eat like I'm actually a grown up and the latest I woke up for a workout was 5:15. I'm going to try to keep this chocolate/exercise relationship in mind going forward in my training.
Wednesday was our second boot camp. Jackie was the task master, and Lily and I were her whimpering followers. I won't type up the whole workout because that's boring, but it was fast paced, torturous, worked seemingly every body part, and I'm still sore. So, I got what I came for. Jackie is extremely good at her job. I need to do a post explaining the horror of bear crawls.
Thursday was a one hour swim. Granted, I go unbelievably slow, but swimming for an hour is pretty do-able. I'm considering it practice for exercising with no music for 4 hours during my next marathon. The sun was out, and it was 70 degrees when I left work, and I stopped at the library to pick up some books I had on hold. I really wanted nothing more than to sit outside and read, but somehow I forced myself to clean and go to yoga. I went for the stretching, but somehow got tortured with "elevated chair poses" (basically holding a squat on your toes) and more planks and lunges.
Friday morning was a repeat of last week - 90 minutes of spinning. 45 on the trainer with Felicity, 45 in spin class at the YMCA because I am lazy and won't push myself to get an actual workout otherwise. I tried out a pair of tri shorts that Jackie lent me to train and race in, and they were fabulously comfortable. Are you getting the impression that you should be jealous of how awesome my friends are? That's accurate.
Despite that jealously, remember those books I just mentioned I got from the library? That's the extent of my plans for the weekend. I know I've mentioned it before, but I honestly often worry about myself because I look forward to weekends of solitude so much (Eric has to work).
|You guys will be my friends, right?|
Do any psychologists read my blog? Anyone want to weigh in if this means something is wrong with me?