Day 20
This morning’s work out was pretty fun. It was a “bench mark” work out where we push ourselves to see how much weight we can lift with proper form in different ways. We did a back squat,* a dead lift,** and a strict press,*** and it was a good time. I was partnered with a friend who is 8 months pregnant. Hot Mama was killing it.**** She was doing if not the same weight as me, more. What I enjoyed about partnering up is that when I would get to my limit, Hot Mama (or any of the other women) would say, “Ok, want to bring it down 2.5 lbs and try again?” And I would say, “Sure.” I mean, why the hell not?
After getting to our max on the weight lifting there was another work out, 8 100m sprints with a minute rest between them. Hot Mama and I ran together. She beat me almost every time. I was great at starting, but she always beat me to the end. I think we tied once, and it was the first one. It was super humbling.
Now, I could cop out and say that she beat me because I would always start getting distracted by possible wardrobe malfunctions. Flying boobs, pants falling down. It was a almost a spectacle. I really need to fix my work out wardrobe. I need more sports bras and more pants. And more shirts. And they have to shrink with me somehow. I should patent that. Shrinking work out clothes.
I’ll get better. I already am doing better burpees, and better push ups. So that’s cool.
Eggs for breakfast, grilled chicken over greens with red pepper and red onion. I used spicy brown mustard as a dressing. It might be weird but I like it. Roasted lamb for dinner with steamed snap peas and roasted red onions. I can’t even describe how good that was. So much yum. I probably ate too much of it to be honest. Bad Ass said no calorie counting this month so there’s that at least. I have to be more aware of portions though. My stomach hurts a little.
Oh, and I napped today. Hard. I meant to lay for a second and I napped for over an hour.
Signing out.
*started at 45, went up to 122.5 lbs.
** ended at 155lbs.
*** 60 lbs. That was a tough one.
**** All I could kill when I was 8 months pregnant was a bag of chips with dip.
