Today at the gym I ran into my friend Fiddledeedee, so we decided to work out together.
We did 15 minutes on one set of treadmills only to get kicked off, so we switched to a different pair of machines and worked out for another hour. Which is nothing for her, or actually, for me. I routinely spend two hours doing aerobic stuff, and Fiddledeedee is also setting endurance records.
I alternated walking and running, and discovered (by means of my NON-STOP BLATHERING) that I was in a good aerobic state throughout. You know, moderate. Not gasping.
Which means I probably need to work harder. (Except when the gossip is really good.)
After working out we went to the cafe for some coffee. Unfortunately the gossip and coffee were way too good, so when I finally got out of the chair, my muscles had kind of seized up. I felt like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz. I needed someone to oil me, or lacking that, a long hot shower.
Why is it that if I stand and stand and stand and let water pour over me at home, I feel like a guilty water-wasting environment despoiler, whereas when I do exactly the same thing at the gym, it doesn't bother me at all?
I figure that it's because someone else is paying the water bill. Either that, or my judgment is affected by the self-righteous glow I get from spending over an hour on the treadmill.
After the gym I went to Best Buy and bought videos and a new CD, then to Ulta to pick up more supplies for my gym bag. One sign that I've been working out a lot is the rapidly diminishing supply of shampoo, cleanser, and body lotion. Whereas those bottles are pretty much gathering dust at home because in case you haven't noticed, I've become a gym rat.
Food? Well, I ate my usual egg salad sandwich for lunch, and my usual pizza and red wine for dinner. All very high quality, and we make the pizza at home, so I control the amount of cheese and even sneak whole wheat flour into the dough ... but you know what? It's Friday, and Weight Watchers can bite me.
Also my mother in law is visiting. The former Hare Krishna one from Florida. And while I'm not much on stress eating, I think I'm being good not to dive head first into my kids' Halloween treat sacks.