And here I am, back where I started. Kind of. I like to think that I'm one entire week stronger, fitter and generally awesomer. Yes, that's not a word, but that doesn't mean it should be left out of my vernacular, which is a word. Look it up if you need to.
I'm not sure if there's going to be a pattern, but for the second week in a row, I could not sleep the night before Core. I had a lot on my mind, and I did a bunch of catch-up paperwork, which got my blood rushing a little bit. Organizing for me is really as bad as, say, smoking. Relaxing and addicting. At least it won't kill me. It will, however, keep me up too late, and that could kill me. What would my cause of death be? Hm. Second-hand organizing. I like it.
Much to my dismay, when my alarm went off at 4:45, I could not find my sports bra anywhere. This was most distressing since I'm, let's just say, well endowed. I like support in all forms. Verbal and Cross-My-Heart are my two favorites. So, I suffered through with a regular bra. Turns out, my middle child, The Bean, pilfered it yesterday and hid it at the bottom of her hamper. Crisis averted--at least, averted for tomorrow. That didn't help me much today.
The workout? It was good. I pushed a little harder. Went a little deeper. My core was definitely working more this time than last week. Again, I threw in my own little modifications so I didn't just sit and stare dumbly at the TV. I brought my own versions in, and that seemed to do the trick. I will love when I don't have to do that and am at their level, but I'm pretty sure I've got a ways to go. Oh, well, at least I have a good bra to work with.
And a word on post-Kenpo X arms: YEOWZAS. Also not a real word but applicable nonetheless.
Day 8: Brought.
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