Bless me, Readers, for I have slacked. It's been two days since my last workout. For those non-Fallen-Catholics out there, that's me, stepping into the workout confessional, asking for forgiveness.
I guess Self didn't do a good enough job of convincing Self to get serious. And to get out of bed yesterday. Woke up with a bowling ball for a head this morning--must be a sinus infection coming on--so I stayed in bed too long AGAIN today.
I'm going to chalk yesterday up to a day off and quit YELLING at Self about it. Because I'm a fallen CATHOLIC, I'm still really good at the guilt, but because I'm a FALLEN Catholic, I can let it go pretty quickly after acknowledging that I suck. Should I have gotten up? Yep. Am I a miserable excuse for a Bad A$$ Tough Mudder in Training? Nope. Just a regular girl trying to become a SuperGirl. That takes time, and it's week one, so no one is beating anyone up over a few missed days. After I say 4 Hail Marys and 7 Our Fathers.
About to score P90x from a buddy, so I will be cranking that up next week. I've decided I need the guidance, ie, peer pressure, ie, reason to keep going other than my own drive. At this early stage in my training life, I am weak. It's too easy to stop. And I know that by plugging a DVD in, I can still turn it off and go downstairs and lay on the couch, but having someone there to yell at me--even through a TV screen--helps keep me going. I can't move a personal trainer in with me to keep me in the workout room and off the couch, so short of that, the yelling man on P90X is gonna have to do. I've heard it's murder, which is perfect for the Mudder. Chick on the informercial was pounding out push-ups like a Marine, and she swears she could barely do girlie ones before she started. I know, I know...that's all fake propaganda BS and already fit people are paid to get all lumpy and slow so they can show their amazing transformations on sorta-live TV at 2 a.m. when no one but we insomniacs are awake. Either way, I'm supposed to be doing push-ups and pull-ups and other really hard things that suck, so I'm gonna see where this yelling man on P90X gets me after a month...hope I don't die.
Today, I'm working for the strength to do one Marine-quality push-up. Just one. Sage advice from a workout-guru friend of mine. Once you do one, try two, and then three, and you get the point. So expect jubilation from this weak-minded/weak-bodied/weak-spirited girl when I manage to do just one. And when I do, you'll hear me yelling, "Hallelujah. Holy $hit. Where's the Tylenol?" (Bonus points if you can name the movie...)
Today's note is in memory of our dear friend Brian "Mufasa" Smith and in immeasurable appreciation of all the other men and women who have lost their lives defending our freedom.
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