I love it when you call me Big Poppa

8 Mar

… That’s what I’m listening to right now.  Thought it would be an appropriate title.  Maybe.  Probably not though.  But hey, I’ll do what I want, it’s my blog and I’ll insert gangsta song titles as I see fit!

I haven’t written in a few days… Been quite busy I must say!  So let’s start with Thursday.

I was still feeling slightly rubbish on Thursday – I believe a microscopic monster took hold of the inside of my face and throat and with itty bitty spray cans – one filled with phlegm, one filled with sneezing power – alternated sprays throughout the day.  Yes – that’s exactly what I believe happened.  Got a problem with that?  I battled on though!  I’m awesome like that.  So I took myself off to my boxing class at lunch time and just to prove my warrior capabilities I then went off to my soccer game in the evening.

We were supposed to play Footballers Wives however they were more concerned with messing up their extensions or breaking a nail than to play us so they forfeited.  We DID however play a ‘friendly’ against another team that was there.  Holy crap, they were exceptionally good.  It was frightening.  They were all over us like fat kids on cake… There was a little one that was speeding around with the ball practically attached to her feet by invisible threads, there was a tall one that was head butting the ball at opportune moments, there was a fat one that didn’t do a whole lot… Yeah she wasn’t great but as a team they were excellent.  We lost 4 – 13.  In our defense though we played much better that the week before!  Well that’s what we kept telling ourselves.

Friday morning held in store a KILLER work out with my trainer.  She announced to me that she felt particularly nasty that day.  Then laid out many small orange cones.  My past experience with small orange cones were not happy ones (except for the kind that have ice cream in them) so I knew what was in store.  And so ensued much running, side stepping, backwards running and repeating.  Then came the dips, the resistance training, the push ups and oh yes, more running between small orange cones.  Then came MORE dips, MORE resistance training and MORE push ups.  Guess what happened after that?  Oh you guessed it.  More running between small orange cones.  By this stage I was swearing, sweating and generally getting fired up.  Several times I muttered under my breath death threats… I’m too tired though by the end of it to follow through though.

Speaking of tired, I’m constantly exhausted and sore and I’m still battling saying no to salty treats when they are placed under my nose.  Sometimes I just want to shut myself off from the salty snack eating world, say no to every party invitation I receive and just embrace solitude so that temptation is never an issue.  But what kind of a life is that?  So then I have moments like the weekend just gone where I just lose my mind, consume several beers and deep fried snacks and then feel sorry for myself.  But I recognise that it is just a minor lapse in judgement, that I need to acknowledge it and think of strategies to prevent it from happening again.  And at least it’s just a ‘bad day’ not a ‘bad week’ or worse a ‘bad month’.   I was also exceptionally hormonal last week… *grumble*

So this week I’m feeling positive!  I did genuinely want to train today but my washing machine has broke down and I have no clean gym clothes and let’s face it, it’s not ideal to work out in my work attire.  But I have my group PT session lined up for tomorrow morning, my PT session on Wednesday, boxing and soccer on Thursday and PT on Friday.

Please, baby cheeses, if you are listening, let me see some results this week.  Amen.


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