Why is it that you take a week off and everything goes right to hell?
I don't mean a week off from work. I worked all week. Mostly in San Antonio, sure, but I still managed to get most of my e-mails.
I didn't take a week off from school. I wish.
I didn't take a week off from my kids. I wouldn't want that.
I had to take a week off from working out.
I HAD to.
I was in San Antonio Wednesday thru Friday, For WORK.
I know I should have Skyped. Shaddap.
Then Saturday was Luke's birthday.
Sunday I had to do something really important. I forget what it was but I know it was important.
Monday Joe had an eye appointment, I had to meet with my professor, and I had LOADS of laundry to do.
Tuesday I had to give a presentation about Burroughs Wellcome's pricing of Retrovir in the 1990s.
That pretty much sucked the life right out of me.
So today -- Wednesday -- I went back to the gym.
I actually tried to get out of it. Clarissa is out of town, so I wasn't sure if Vic could take me.
He's a busy man.
So I texted him: "Can I come in today or would you rather me come tomorrow?"
He texted back: "Get your ass in here."
Guess he's not too busy for me, bless him.
In typical Vic fashion, he made me do owie this and hurty that until I was sweaty and red and panting.
I had to do explosive push ups. Lots of them.
Explosive push ups are when you push your whole body off the floor from a push up position. Then you have to catch your body when you land. My whole body weighs in the neighborhood of 244 -248 lbs. (Shaddap). That's a lot of exploding.
I had to do jumping jacks.
Only my knees are old lady knees, so I have to do low impact jumping jacks.
Low impact does not mean low intensity.
Anyway. . .here's the problem: The jumping jacks are in front of a mirror. Sometimes the mirror is my friend. It shows me how strong I've become.
Know what the mirror shows when you take a week off?
Jiggly arms. Jiggly belly. Jiggly thighs. The fat pockets under my knees were jiggling.
Haven't I been mostly faithfully working out 4-6 times a week for a YEAR?
One piddly week off and my friggin knees jiggle?
Vic just texted me again: "I expect you at 5:30 tomorrow. No excuses".