New Realities of Motherhood

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Day Two of Boot Camp

Got up the morning after Boot Camp- Day One and thought I did not work out hard enough as I had only limited noon I wondered how I was going to get through another class tonight. Sitting down and getting up from my chair was excruciating.

Yesterday, I wondered where my body went as my arms and legs were shaking under the strain of toning in my muscles were like rubber and harder to move in the directions I was asking them to go. I asked the gal next to me if she could see my legs.... I couldn't feel them anymore.

I want to go go and my muscles say no no. I got a knot in my calf - doing the only thing I am semi-good at... jogging in place.

I confessed out loud before doing reps of the Tasmanian Something or other, that I both loved and hated my coach.  (He said he dad tells him the same thing).

I can feel body parts I never knew had muscles- or lack of them.

Why is it after working out your brain is tired too? Driving home I decided I am turning into a zombie. Can barely move, and my brain is mush.

When the coach says, "this next one might be hard" and I am still panting, prepare yourself for the wrath of resistance doom.

This morning the Day After Boot Camp -Day Two  and I feel like I have been hit by a truck or the very least a small wrecking ball. I negotiate with myself on how important that thing on the floor is for picking up. I dread a bathroom visit- that's alot of bending. I hope this 'gimme a walker' syndrome passes soon.

No one's dropped out yet. The class is great. We whine and groan and gasp for air nearly in unison so no one feels inferior in ability. We are probably feeling Day After pain together too. I can only hope.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Too Many Birthday Candles

One thing you cannot outrun are the flames of birthday candles. The heat from those seemingly harmless yet iniquitous wax symbols is growing each year. While I am waxing my hands and feet with a near cousin to prolong 'youthful' smoothness, those eventful candles bring a smoldering of wrinkles and gray hairs every year. And lets not forget how nicely they illuminate the path to senescence.

This year was a big one for me. Please don't count them. Trust me. It was more like a mile bolder. However, the love of friends and family,  pushed me over the boulder with grace and fun to the point of this writer's shameful acknowledgment: its not the number of years but the number of friends that matters. You can't outrun those candles, but thank God for friends and family to take your mind off of the quantity of them.