Days 5 & 6

Are you surprised to see Day 6 up there? I was. Let me tell you why. My goal was to work out Monday through Friday and take the weekends off which means I should be stuck at 5 right now but I took on Day 6 and kicked the shit out of it (something like that).

Friday was Day 5...fairly easy and routine. The kids were being bribed with a trip to the mall and lunch at Costco so that alone was enough for them to behave and leave me alone. I did another Level 1 workout and it was OK. By that time my hamstrings were TIGHT and amazingly enough the lunges really felt good while I stretched the muscles out. I was sweaty. There was a shower afterwards and as usual I was mesmerized by the amount of sweat in my sports bra. That alone should have meant that I lost like 5 pounds.

I didn't.

Whatever.

Day 6...here's how this went. Saturday I did nothing. We were getting ready for the Dave Matthews concert and I spent the morning sewing cheer spankies and watching the monsters in the basement...just feet away from where Jillian usually kicks my ass. I was taunting her.

So the DMB concert...another reminder that I am WAY older than I think I am. I remember this distinctly being an issue back in July 2001 when I saw him at Solider Field in Chicago. I was not even 28 yet but when I walked in I immediately felt OLD. I had left my building in Chicago and gotten picked up by my cousin and was living the young life working in a law firm- no kids...it was great! I was young! I was free (mostly)! And then I walked into the concert.

HOLY SHIT WAS I OLD!!!!! How on EARTH was I OLD at 27 years old!?!?!?!?!? But I was....dear God...the young co-eds...hot girls, hot guys...and me- this OLD 27 year OLD paralegal. Gah. I wanted to die.

But that doesn't hold a candle to how OLD I felt last night. Jeeeeeeeeeeezus. Gru and I brought down the average age by like 15 + years. If I had been a young, un-wed mother I could have EASILY been 'Mom' to most of the kids there. Depressing as hell.

Anyway Gru and I got to the hill early (I can't see buying seat tickets for the cost and then STILL have to stand the whole time when you can see perfectly well from the hill and scoped out a great spot) to snag some good lawn seats. We were about 45 minutes early for the opening act- she was great- wish I could sing like her but am resigned to the fact that I really don't.

Dave came on at 8:30 and by then most of the 'children' were totally shit-faced- notable were the people behind us..and in front of us (big, fat guy who chucked a water bottle up toward the front of the lawn, "Hey asshole, the other kids are throwing beach balls and glow-sticks...we don't fucking throw water bottles"), the guy next to me (who was ALL over his hot girlfriend and I  kept  hoping he would manage to NOT throw up in my Tory Burch flip-flops because as old and shitty as they are- they were still $50 and I pink, puffy, heart them)...but the guy behind us...OH....EMMMMM...GEE!!!

First of all he was talking to Dave Matthews like they were personal friends ("David, come on!")...from about 1/2 a mile away...which means he had to talk VERY loudly. However that didn't compare to how loudly he had to SING to get Dave hear him. Gru was VERY irritated by this. I was irritated by this too but not as much as Gru. I get we are at a concert. I get the patrons will sing. But please, for the love of all that is holy, don't sing so loudly that the main act can hear you on stage because that means everyone around you can hear you too and they paid their $40 to hear the dude on stage...not your drunk, constipated-sounding ass ruin the songs. I honestly thought this dude might need some serious fiber to get things moving but in retrospect I don't think he was grunting and groaning trying to shit- he was singing...all the words AND the instrumentals...LOUDLY. Did I mention he was very loud?

So why did I work out this morning?

There was a good amount of pot and cigarette smoke it the air which I'm fond of, personally. I don't necessarily like to smoke either one but the smells bring me many good memories from my teen years. As lovely as it was last night, this morning when I woke up I was ready to remove all the reminders of last night's activities. And then I thought about it...

...if I have to shower I need to make it worth my while. Showering as I've mentioned in the past has become a bit more of a luxury since I've had kids. When I shower I want to make sure that there's a darn good reason I'm doing it. So...I thought about it. I was kinda icky and kinda sticky but not enough that it would have warranted a shower. How can I make this right and worthwhile?

Oh, I know...I have an idea.

 I could work out and get another day under my belt. OMG, did those words come out of MY thought processes? Surely not. Yet, they did.

So to the basement I went for Day 6- on a Sunday of all days- a day of rest and napping! Ugh.  I decided to up the ante and hit Level 2. Ummm, it was rough. I know all the moves, I've done them in my previous 75 Minutes of Doom class but that didn't matter I was still begging for mercy by the second circuit and sweating like a fat man in line for cream puffs at the county fair. It was not pretty but it felt damn good. All I could think was that I was making a difference with my muscles and making them stretch and grow. I was *hoping* that the work was busting through some fat (gotdamnit). I had to take  a few 5 second breaks so my muscles didn't actually burst through my skin (which has yet to happen due to my very carefully, planned 5 second breaks) but I made it...and when I got in the shower I KNEW that I had earned the shower and it was not longer an optional bathing situation.

Tomorrow is Monday and the girls are off to summer school. It's my One Week check-in so I'll check in with weight as well as some pictures (not that I think a whole lot has changed...insert swear words here).

SS, who is ready to face day 2 of Level 2...