Tuesday, January 22, 2013
I went to class today, but man was it a struggle. All of my workouts have been difficult this week. I went for a run on Friday and it sucked! I jogged so slow my Garmin watch thought I was walking. I did 2 miles in 40 minutes. I probably could have walked faster.
Today was my class with the exercise ball and then I decided to do the second class, kettlebell. That KILLED me. I felt like such a lazy butt doing those squats. I just didn't have it in me to set myself properly or get deep into the squats and swings. It was pathetic. I ended up leaving early.
I didn't feel completly horrible though. I wasn't the only one. One of the gymbrats (that's what I call the clicky girls at my gym who've been taking these classes together for years) decided to take both of the classes too. She left at the same time I did. She actually left first; I followed her lead. We agreed that we'd have to alternate classes each week. There is just no way to fo both.
Tomorrow I'm supposed to have one-on-one training with Abby. I hurt just thinking about it. I need to get my head back in the game and stop complaining though.
Last night, well all day yesterday, I kept thinking about the leftover cookie we had sitting on the kitchen table. Our friends brought it over to celebrate the Raven's win. And they left it for us to finish. I was hoping my husbnad would have finished it off before I got home frmo work, but no. It was still there and I thought about it ALL NIGHT. I wish I was kidding, but it taunted me all freaking night. I was sitting in bed, watching the Biggest Loser, and thinking about taking a piece of the cookie. Finally, I got out of bed with every intention of just throwing the cookie out--Conquer the cookie!!!--but I ended up taking a big bite out of it instead. I was so disappointed with myself.
But this mornig, I packed greek yogurt for lunch with some veggies. Hopefully that would help redeem myself.
I think I need to have a chat with hubby. I don't think his behavior this weekend has helped my mood any, in fact, it has probably fueled it. On Saturday, we helped my brother and his girlfriend move into an apartment. As a 'thank you' they had munchkin donuts available and ordered pizza for lunch--you know how that goes. I ate 1 donut and 3 slices of pizza. Hubby had 11 or more donuts and 2 slices of pizza. Later that night my stomach was a little upset. When I told him he said, "That's because you eat too much! You ate more pizza than I did!" He made me feel like a complete pig. I pointed out that he only had one less slice than I did he had a ton of donuts. His response was, "I know what my body can handle." Later that night, I accidently squished my son's finger in one of his toys. I felt horrible, but my husband made me feel worse. He grabbed matthew and refused to let me hold him even though matthew was reaching out for me. He acted like I was trying to kill my son or something. He finally let me have Matthew but he told me to leave the room because he couldn't look at me. i've never been talked to like that ever. He ignored me for the rest of the night and most of the next day. It wasn't until he came home that he gave me a kiss on the cheek, after checking matthew's fingers, and acted like nothing happened. I was too mentally drained to confront him about it. I need to though, I know. We can't pretend nothing happened, but I'm sure we will like we always do until one of us cracks...