I've also committed to entering in my first tri-athlon, which is scheduled for Sunday, September 7th (let's pray that I don't have a repeat c-section.) Because the biking portion is what I'm most nervous about, I knew that I needed to begin getting those muscles in gear (God, I'm just full of little exercise puns today) as soon as possible.
Yesterday, I went to the Y with the best kind of friend. Alex has been working with a personal trainer for a number of months on a weekly basis, and is committed to doing the workout provided for her one extra time per week. Not only is she in better shape than I, but she's also got to prove to someone (besides herself) that she does the work when her trainer's not there, so is invested in really doing her homework. I got the benefit of a creative weights workout without paying for it. I had not had a 'real' weights workout since my own days of personal training with a fantastic trainer at the Bally's in Hillsboro. I'm going to put her real name out there, because I would recommend her to anyone; Shelly Gonzales (hope she still works there).
Anyway, I got home yesterday and realized after climbing the stairs a couple of times that I was going to be sooooooore in the morning. Sure enough, when my alarm buzzed at ten after five this morning, I had to creak my body awake. As if I don't already have problems hefting my weight out of the bed, let's roll around on a ball and get the ole abs nice and sore...good thinking!
At the advice of Alex and some of the other women, I went against my better judgement and didn't wear undies with my bike pants (they had lots of reasons that really did end up making sense, although it's hard to get this Catholic mind to even think about foregoing said items), but I did have all my other layers intact, so didn't feel quite so naked.
I sweated my way through the entire class, feeling very good about the fact that nobody knows what resistance you have on your bike. I got home in time to shower before J had to leave for work, and am now ready to tackle the day. As I walked in the door, H peeked around the corner with his bowl of cheerios while watching Sesame Street, and said "I wanna go to the Y!" Uhhhh...too bad kiddo, mommy's done for the day.
Now on to the best part of the day; I get to meet a bunch of friends for coffee and have a real latte at Starbucks. I don't care if I do have to order in "Fritalian", because ordering in English at Dunkin' Donuts does not a better latte make.
*Image taken from this blog.Pin It