Wait a second. It is Sunday.
Today was an easy day.
Of course, I would rather it wasn't but, sigh, it had to be.
You know, the leg--eye roll.
The leg actually feels fine but I decided today I would not run. I have run a little, sometimes even a lot, everyday for 3 weeks. So I think it is time to see if a day off will help the old sticks.
Pam, I think it was, and possibly someone else, suggested yoga. Really, I don't like yoga.
Wait, let me be more specific. I don't mind the actual doing of yoga; I just don't like yoga classes. You know, yoga classes where you are asked to free your mind and focus on the "breath."
Shrug, I guess I like my exercise to be a little more intense. Not to mention, if I am being honest, I get a little competitive in the yoga class. First I think that is just part of my make up--whether I like it or not I am a competitive person.
Second, I blame gymnastics. I mean, we spent the first part of every practice stretching. I mean we spent the first part of every practice seeing who could twist themselves into the tightest pretzel while doing a middle split. And I gotta say, for what I lacked in talent and experience I definitely made up for in flexibility. And, yes, it was about the only part of practice where I shined. Yes, stretching. We won't even talk about my beam performances.
Today's yoga class wasn't so terrible because it wasn't one of those yoga instructors who insist on pretending they are a yogi and say all those Hindu phrases. This girl powered through the moves without a lot of commentary or once reminding me to find my breath. I definitely appreciated that.
And I excelled at the poses that involved core power or twisting the upper body into awkward positions. But man. I was taken down a few notches with anything that required me to engage a hip flexor or hamstring. Definitely tons of room for improvement there.
I know I shouldn't be surprised as running is notorious for shortening the leg muscles but I still thought I would at least be middle of the road and not like the tall men in class. You know the ones. The ones who hide in the back corners of the class and grunt and moan through every pose. Just goes to prove you can't bank on your natural flexibility forever. Use it or lose it. And, I have lost it.
But, again yay me on the superior quad, back and upper body strength. Those push-ups? Child's play. The instructor said, "Okay, we are going to do 50 of these!" And I was like, yeah whatever.Everyone else audibly groaned. Then she said "Kidding! We are only doing 10." Easy peasy.
We'll see how much I regret the class tomorrow.
But yes. I definitely should make an effort to go on a regular basis and you know, not like twice a year and then I might see some improvement. Heck, with some effort I might even be able to medal again in the she who is most flexible category. At the very least I might not have so many issues with my legs.
After yoga I hit the pool for an easy swim. Just 30 minutes continuous swimming. I had thought I might try a harder workout with some drills but for some reason the pool was so freaking hot it made me want to throw up at my easy pace. Not to mention I felt a little jelly like from the yoga. Ha! Jelly fish.
After the gym I had to find something to do with the kids today (Ryan is still tiling). So after a shower and some lunch we headed over to the Leita Thompson trail for a hike.
I love to run on this trail. It is very well maintained and though a bit gravely, definitely less treacherous than some of the others in the area.
So that is what all the pictures are about. I took pictures to assuage my frustration at not running.
Of course, I still had the kids with me; who as kids couldn't resist running up and then sliding down the biggest pile of dirt they could find.
You know. The kids who got in a fight over whose turn it was to hold Lola's leash.
The kids, one of who had a screaming fit in the middle of the trail because it was no longer his turn to hold the leash. Then, because it was Lola's fault he threw a rock at her. And then the same kid who had the fit, whose turn it wasn't and threw the rock, walked the last .25 mile yelling at me that he WAS!NOT!GOING!TO!HIS!ROOM!.
Meanwhile the other kid-- the one who clearly needs her bangs trimmed (hint hint Pookie)-- I mean, the one whose turn it was to hold the leash, pointed out that since she was so good could she pretty please have hot cocoa and cookies upon our return while her brother was being punished in his room? Because, you know, she was good and not naughty and waited patiently for her turn. So she? She deserved cookies and hot cocoa. For being good.
And then the kid who was to be punished screamed and cried even louder that he WAS!NOT!GOING!TO!HIS!ROOM! And that he also wanted cookies and hot cocoa. Because he? He was not naughty. And he? He told Lola sorry.
The dog just wanted it all to be over.
As I said, easy like a Sunday.
And, obviously, it depends on who's Sunday we are talking about.
21/0. The streak continues. Of course my trip to the orthopedist will probably bring it to a screeching halt tomorrow.