Greetings from Columbia, SC, where it is hella-humid and a balmy 95 degrees. Luckily, I get to spend most of my time here ensconced in my hotel room, or in a freezing office building, or in the Carolina Ale House tomorrow eve, where I am sure I can eat or drink absolutely nothing. Ah well. This is the life I chose, y'all. Poor little diet girl.
J and I went to his boss's son's graduation party on Saturday, and at first glance, my prospects were dismal. An entire table was filled with delectable, doughy goodies (the pretzel tray! I worship you, pretzel tray. You are all that is right and good in this world!), dips, chips, cookies, and other delicious carby-calories. I slunk away, unnerved, and gnawed on some raw veggies with a tablespoon of ranch dip. Um, yum?
I sipped on iced tea with sweetener, as J drank beer after delectable beer. Once the hot food was served, I allowed myself a jumbo hot dog sans bun, and some baked beans.
After the soiree, I forced my slightly buzzed hubby to take me to Osaka, our favorite sushi restaurant in Chestnut Hill, for some raw fish goodness. Oh, but I cheated with sinful clear alcohol in the form of a slightly dirty Grey Goose martini. And you know what? The alcohol didn't even taste or feel good. It left me feeling cloudy, and that's about it. Maybe there is something to clearing it out of your system, eh?
I headed to the track on Sunday morning (I find I much prefer to run outside; I look forward to these runs as they are somehow carthartic; spiritual even, despite "Piece of Me" by Britney Spears persistently blasting in my headphones). On my way out the door, J asked what my plans were: "5 miles?" "Ha!" I laughed, "with these legs, I'll be lucky if I get to 3." (Legs were still extremely tight from Thursday's rigorous one-hour yoga class.)
But a funny thing happened as I went around and around that oval: I just kept going. I tried to make it to 3 miles, then I stretched my goals to 4. On my 16th lap around I thought: "Fuck it - we might as well go for 20, dude." And so I went. I ran five miles for the first time in my entire life, and man, did that feel positively liberating. I'm really doing this, y'all! It's a shock to my system to feel as if I am on course to complete a lofty goal.
But what of P90X you ask? She arrived in an inoccuous-looking box last Thursday, at which time I snapped this photo of her, then went about my business.
I finally bought resistance bands on Saturday evening, and by this morning, we were ready to go. (Although I have yet to take those ridiculous "before" shots of my abs and booty; I shall make J do it this week when I arrive home.) I am doing P90X Lean, for those of us that don't wish to bulk up like Hugh Jackman in Wolverine (but well done, HJ. Well done.)
I bounded down the stairs at 6 AM and sweated and grunted and growled my way through "Core Synergistics" which is all about the damn "core", of which I have none to speak (my abs have always looked presentable, however, there is no muscle there. Only lovable, soft tissue.). "Wow," J remarked as he kissed me goodbye, "You're really sweating!" By the time Tony got to the "Prison Push-up", I was about ready to not only throw in the towel, but drop-kick my television and then wail on it some for good measure. But somehow I survived, and when brother said I could either continue on to the "bonus round" or fast-forward to the cool down, you better believe I was light-stretching with the best of them.
All-in-all, it has been a mostly successful week-long foray into HomeValley Version 2.0, The Fit Kid. (Although, I did almost allow myself a martini before boarding my flight to Columbia this afternoon. Nervous flyer! I decided against it in the end, however, and opted for Au Bon Pain's organic black tea and almonds. Almonds, y'all! They are my new best friend.)
O! The new issue of O is out on stands and it includes the Summer Reading List! Pick up your copy today and nerd out with me, won't you? There is so much to read and so little time!