In the past week I've worked out twice.
And, you know what? I don't look like Giselle Bundchen yet.
I mean, WTH?! The universe must be playing games with me because I totally FEEL like I should look like Giselle, yet, when I look in the mirror all I see is a 30 something mother of five (with the battle wounds to show for it) with a strong penchant for Doritos and Sour Patch Kids staring back at me.
Here's the other thing. I hurt.
And, I'm not so sure it's in a good way...but it could be. All I know is those damn "front plank holds" totally kicked my ass when all I thought I was doing was kicking their ass. Sure, my legs, arms, back, belly, and butt were quivering with fatigue and waving their white flags but I'D BE DAMNED if I was going to let that front plank win!!
So, I held it. I quivered. I swore. I tried not to hold my breath. And when it was over, I collapsed (all 4 inches) to the ground and tried to talk myself into how great that felt. And wasn't I proud of myself?! And "just think mama!! You'll look in the mirror and see the body of a 25 year old supermodel!!"
Someone, quick. Get me some Bengay. Or some IcyHot. And a good masseuse. A bottle of ibuprofen. A hot pack. Oh, and chiropractor.
All my love,
Your Loveable Achy Old Friend,