Monday, August 30, 2010
I was a lazy bum this weekend, and I enjoyed every minute of it. *ahem* I did at least get in a lot of stretching with my Yoga strap. I had to after that strength training session that kicked my butt. Woah. I didn't count this stretching toward rowing, because really, it was me sitting my butt in the easy chair, hooking the strap around each foot, and doing a lot of pulling. Hardly what I'd call breaking a sweat.
Back to the grindstone. To help support my commitment to Yoga as a regular part of my exercise routine, I bought myself a new mat. This one is a sticky mat, pretty emerald green. I desperately needed a sticky mat, because with a regular one, the instant you start sweating, it's like you're trying to exercise on a slip'n'slide. Fun for a ten year old, perhaps, potential hip breaker when you get up in years. No thanks. I never want to be "Exhibit A", and I think a chalk line would make me look fat.
I upped the resistance on the exercise bike a notch, since if I was being completely honest with myself, the cardio workouts were getting easier. The extra resistance fixed that. I'm back to huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf and sweating like a horse. I envy those delicate damsels who barely shimmer in hot weather or after exertion. I've never been one, alas.
I've picked the strength training routine again that kicked my butt on Friday. My philosophy is if something kicks your butt, keep coming back until you can kick its.
On a strangely tangential note, strength training is paying off in unusual ways. Take my non-stick skillet. Seriously, please, take it. It's not non-stick. It's a lie, a damnable lie! I didn't want to add extra fat to my eggs this morning, so I stupidly accepted the manufacturer's glowing reassurances that their skillet is the non-stickiest skillet in the history of evar. (I would be remiss if I didn't also mention that while I'm a really good cook, this talent does not extend to eggs. Eggs are the idiot to my savant in the kitchen.) My breakfast eggs wound up looking like some seventh grade science experiment. That I could handle. They tasted fine.
What I did NOT like is that even after a nice hot water soak in soapy water for a few hours, what remained on my skillet was like a Renaissance art experiment in how to get a design to last for-freakin'-EVER. Yeah, I totally get why they put egg in paint now. Sheesh! Of course, I couldn't drag out the heavy duty pot scourer, because the delicate "non-stick" surface can't handle abrading. If it could handle not sticking, that wouldn't have annoyed me nearly as badly as it did.
How does this relate to strength training, you may ask, assuming you've waded through the rambly part? I scrubbed. And I scrubbed. And I SCRUBBED, and I finally got the last little crusty remnants of the second edition of the Sistine Chapel off my skillet without tiring or breaking a sweat. That's right. Gun show. *flex*
I'll edit this to add all my times for the day when I've done my strength training, although I totally think I should be able to count my epic battle with the skillet in my time. :P
Strength Training-30 mins. (No, I didn't include the skillet fight. It WAS tempting.)
Total: 82 mins.