At my work out today Ass Kicker said she thought I would change her name to The Bitch after making me run again. While it was truly tempting, I didn’t. The reason I didn’t (and probably won’t) is simple.
I contacted her and said, “I need your help.” She didn’t contact me and say, “I enjoy torturing fat people* and you look like a good candidate.” Then I may have called her a bitch.
I tend to be like this though. I am terribly inappropriate. However, that being said, I am so very grateful and, I like to think, classy. If I’m calling anyone a bitch, it’s because A) You’re a bitch, or B) We are besties and I can call you that. Ass Kicker is a woman I am grateful for, because she took me on. I have a respect for that, so I may mention that I wanted to curse like a sailor, but I doubt it will ever be directly at her like that.
When I had my second child, she had trouble eating and I had trouble producing milk for her. She wouldn’t take a bottle. A friend of mine offered to help me wake up the every three hours** so I could keep up production and get her fed. I am not a morning person, so I didn’t know how it would go. But we both ended up laughing because every time she called, I would be half asleep and just thanking her for helping me go through this.
Even asleep, I was a decently gracious person. I loathe being woken up. I want to sleep. And I was thanking her profusely. That is me.
Today we took a few hours and went over the fundamentals of lifting and squats and stuff like that. Something about a clean and jerk. I’m still learning the terms, but it was fun. I genuinely enjoy this. I am sore as hell. There were four of us***, all different ages and weights, yet we were all at the same level learning these moves. That felt good.
Today I had eggs for breakfast, salmon and Brussels sprouts for lunch. I had a lamb grill for dinner and some bread and hummus. I had no chocolate today. I can’t say that for previous days. Cutting one thing out at a time.
* although I may secretly wonder.
**this went on for months. It was fucking terrible.
*** One was a 21 year old guy, and as she was moving his back to the right position, all I could think is, “and this is why I either NEED to be a trainer, or why I SHOULD NEVER be a trainer.” That just looked like too much fun.