Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Sick Day and Sweat
Don't they look cherubic? Of course, if you could see the book Jordan is reading to Lara you'd realize it was Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Good stuff. Really appropriate for a four-year old.
Both Jordan and Lara were sick at the beginning of this week with some sort of cold/stomach yuckiness. Both are back at school today. I love them at home... but I admit, I love them at school, too.
Too much Mastermind. Too much Sorry. Too much Zingo.
Too much, "Mommy, please can you get me a drink? No! Not that cup! I don't like that cup! No I don't want orange juice-- I want milk!"
Too much begging for movies "on demand" (but WHY can't we watch G-Force again?! Please Please Please? But I'm sick and I don't want to play! I want to watch TV!")
But today everyone went back to school, and I had a whole three hours to myself. I spent it......
working out. Surprise!
I went to the gym to do a run workout. Normally I run outside. I really can't stand the gym. However, we had snow last night and the roads were slushy and wet. Because I am racing on Sunday I had a bit of fast, race pace interval kind of workout scheduled, and I didn't want to do that in slush.
I should have gone for the slush.
First, I had to wait for a treadmill. They were all occupied by women who were walking, chatting, and watching TV. Can I ask, how much is that REALLY doing? Huh? Does strolling on a treadmill really qualify as aerobic activity? Brisk walking... now that's one thing. But strolling? After ten minutes a few women got off to take a Zumba class. Finally.
Second, it is a thousand degrees in the gym. This is probably because everyone strolls on the treadmills and gabs rather than running. God forbid--they may get chilly if the temperature is set lower than 80 degrees.
Third, there is a 30 minute limit when there is a wait for the treadmills. At 30 minutes, sure enough, a woman asked me to get off. I flung my head around to face her so she was sprayed with my sweat and then smiled sweetly. "Oh, is my time up?" I said without making any motions to get off. Just then another treadmill opened up. The women took off and got on the open mill.
I may be a bitch but I am not getting off the fucking treadmill at 30 minutes. Who the hell made that rule? 30 minutes does not even a run MAKE!
Okay, so those are the three big reasons I should have gone outside instead of going to the gym. Lesson learned. I need to rel-learn this lesson every few months, or so. I forget.
The best part of the run today is how fantastically sweaty I got. It was unbelievable--totally nasty and totally awesome. As everyone strolled on their mills in their fitting sweatpants and cute little Athleta sweatshirts next to me, I tore up that damn treadmill. Ten minutes into the run I was sweaty. By 30 minutes into the run my tank was soaking wet--and I don't mean just soaking wet- I mean SOAKING wet. When I finally got off the treadmill and changed I had to wring it out in the sink before packing it in my bag. Also, my hair was drenched. Usually I remember to put it into a bun when running inside because the tip of the ponytail flops around and sprays sweat pellets everywhere. But today I forgot. Anyway, because I wasn't just a little sweaty, but a lotta sweaty, my ponytail didn't just set off pellets of sweat. Instead a stream of water flowed off the end of my ponytail as it swayed rhythmically from side-to-side, dampening the fashionable Ahtleta tops of the women around me.
So that was my run.
When I got off the mill I just looked around like, Right, Ladies. That's how it's fucking done.