3.13.11 - Sunday
Well the weekend came and is almost gone. On Saturday, I met up with a "mom friend" (because we no longer have our own identity when we become a mom) and went to a spin class for a change of cardio pace. It was so great. No one yelling at me to squeeze my butt cheeks, no Brazilian dance music - just me and the bike. My mom pal is ripped - I mean, has no body fat and looks like a former ballerina or marathon runner - so, because I love feeling like a chunky schlub, I sat right behind her so I'd have an unobstructed view of her sculpted hammies, perfect butt and chiseled arms. Okay, I didn't purposely sit behind her, I was late and that was the first available bike. But anyway, she's in amazing shape and I just pretended that I was riding to get to a body like hers. I pushed the resistance up high and worked my legs and butt - I think the Butt Master would have been proud...if the class had been three-hours long, that is. At the end of the 45-minute class, I was dripping in sweat and felt like I had really accomplished a goal for the day. I'll carry that feeling - along with the crotch bruise from the bike seat - with me all week.
After class, I marched on down to the sneaker store and got myself a new pair of shoes for booty school. You like?
I know I'll be a jumping/squatting/kicking machine in my neon yellow trail shoes! Look out Leandro, this flabby mama is ready to kick it into high gear! Lord help me...
And speaking of Sunday, I exercised today too. I did two workouts from Leandro's DVDs and to say my effort was half-assed, is to give myself way too much credit. I need to be in an environment where I have accountability and can't stop to watch the sculpted people on the screen while I "adjust my laces" for the billionth time. But hey, at least I did something!
I'm feeling a little melancholy and tired today, thanks to PMS and daylight savings, but I'm going to adjust my attitude, go to bed early and wake up ready to take on the week at booty school. I refuse to get expelled. I refuse to quit. I refuse to accept that this is the best body I can hope for.
I. CAN. DO. THIS!
Six weeks to go...