jianantonic | (no subject)

I just got home from the gym. Today would normally be an arm day, but my arms are still sore from yesterday and my legs are not, so I made it a leg day. I used some different machines today, and tried different adjustments on a couple of things. I think it was one of the best workouts I've given myself in a long time. I then got on an elliptical and managed to go for a full 15 minutes before I even looked at the time. This is how I measure my fitness - not in how long I can last on a machine, but how long I can last before I see how close to done I am (or not close, as the case may be, because I rarely make it past 6 minutes without looking). After my 30 minutes, I was definitely fatigued, but I felt okay. I'd listened to my iPod while running, but decided I wanted to read some. I'm at what I think is the climax of Part One in Atlas Shrugged, and I was really anxious to read more. I found an empty bike and started reading. I got almost to the end of my chapter before I decided I'd had enough, and I dismounted after 30 minutes of that. All told, it was an hour of cardio today. I feel good, and I'm so glad I'm getting a massage tonight.

As if the extended workout weren't surprising enough, I came home and cooked for myself. My trainer tells me I shouldn't have carbs with dinner - it's by no means the Atkins diet, it's just that your body doesn't need carbs to sleep and it's better for you to eat them at breakfast and lunch and do a protein-heavy dinner. But it's just so easy to stop at Bodo's on my way home and get a bagel...or make a sandwich...and I hate cooking. Oh my god, do I hate cooking. But I came home and scrambled myself some eggs. And I didn't fuck it up, and it tasted good, and God saw that it was good....

Anyway, I'm going to go turn the cold water on myself and cleanify.
Peace.