That’s my 1 stone award.
Today, I stepped on the scales and my bloody jaw hit the floor. 5lbs off. I also got Slimmer of the Week, again!
I was worried I wouldn’t hit my 3lbs after yesterday’s sugar binge (2 curly wurly’s and a bit of a flexisyn day! Eating when I am upset never ends well).
After panicking I wouldn’t be able to make it to the gym because I had to wait for a bloody package for the Hubby, it arrived at 0910 this morning, 10 minutes after I ate my Scromelette (A scrambled omelette, which had bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes in). I decided I would go to the gym around dinner time. At 1130, I was out the door with my headphones in to pound the pavement walking to the gym. Walking to the gym isn’t an issue, it’s all down hill. I wanted to get the blood pumping and get myself warmed up, which was bloody hard because it was knobbling (freezing cold out)! Walking into the building where the gym is (it has a swimming pool too) and it was like walking into a wall of heat. Nice but hot when I got to the top of the stairs. I decamped my crap into a locker, grabbed my phone, water bottle and towel and headed in.
15 mins on the treadmill, varying the speed between 4.5km/h and 5.5km/h. I did the weird wobbly moment when I thought my feet were going to come out from underneath me, but I didn’t land on my face. So it’s all good.
Next the elliptical. 10 minutes on that one, each minute alternating between level 1 and level 5. That felt good, my legs were beginning to burn.
Then the bike, fuck me I hate the bike. I really do. (At the moment at least!) I did 8 minutes on the bike and got to level 6, my legs were shaking like a leaf in the wind and I thought I was going to wobble off.
However, whilst I was on the bike, turning my usual shade of deep deep pink/purple, there were two dudes in the free weights section pointing and laughing in my direction. (I saw them in the mirror, there was no one else around me.) I wanted to cry, stop my workout there and then and walk home. I didn’t hear what they were saying as my headphones were blasting in my ears.
What I did, was ignore them, hide any tears that had started forming and moved on to the chest press. I did my 2 sets of 15 (thought my arms were going to fall off on the second set), then moved on to the lat pull down, I did one set of 15 and one set of 20. Then came the leg press and that’s a mean nasty piece of equipment that burns the living shit our of your legs. I like it though. A LOT. I did one set of 15 and then a set of 20.
I was sweating, a fabulous shade of deep red (I have always gone that colour even at my fittest. Not sure why though) and I marched out of the gym with my head up. I wasn’t going to let those men dictate my mood. Why should I? Why should I spoil my high on them.
I bundled up and walked, slowly, up the hill to home. I thought my legs would collapse under me at one point. The door was opened up before me, when I got there, and I practically collapsed on the settee. It was lush.
Today has been a good day. Even with those two blokes. I don’t care what they were laughing about, I am in the gym to save my life. To regain my life. If they think that’s funny, then more fool them.
I have dropped a fucking stone and 2.5lbs in 3 weeks. I am chuffed as fudge!
Going to leave you all to it now!