That's me. The sweaty thing dripping all over the treadmill.
I normally wear my sweat with pride. I earn my sweat and weirdly, I feel at my most confident when I'm soaked. I think it's probably the endorphins making me delusional, but I love that feeling, it's sort of raw and primal. Yesterday, however, and the day before, took it to a whole new level after a rather vigorous interval training session. My vest was literally fit to be wrung out - suddenly it occurred to me, I'm that grim overly sweaty person who sweats all over the machines so no one else wants to use them. For shame. I had a crop top underneath, but to be honest it would probably cause more offence to mince around exposing my pale tum than just keep the vest on.
Note to self, take a spare BLACK top for next interval training session.
Anyway, had a grand session this morning before work. Very much enjoying training before work, it feels as though getting out of bed has a purpose beyond getting up for work. Vinnie is trying to teach me to clean. It's not working out well. I think he may turn blue in the face before I get it right, I've got about as much explosive power as a duff party popper. I have strength and agility but speed and explosiveness I just can't get the hang of. Apparently I'm not bringing my elbows up high enough, which means I'm not generating enough power from my legs in the first part of the lift. I think I might be starting to understand where I'm going wrong, at least with 30kg - I started to sort of push up from my heels instead of my thighs where I had been starting. Then Vinnie bumped the weight to 35kg and my technique went to pot in the effort to even lift the weight in that way. The jerk was out of the question. I get so mad at myself when I can't do something properly, especially when I know that I'll probably never get it right. But. No wallowing, let's move on.
After work today I went home in the rain and thought I'd go for a run. I am delighted that summer is nearly becoming autumn. I know that sounds miserable, but my cardio just deteriorates in summer because I can't stand the humidity. Now the air feels fresher, which my lungs appreciate. It was really nice, apart from the inevitable nipple prominence - which never fails to attract the wrong sort of attention, especially when running. My MP3 player also crashed halfway round the route, and I don't run without music, ever. Normally I use my earring to reset it, but didn't have any in so I got really inventive and used a thorn. An actual thorn. I love nature.
I'm beginning to question the purpose of this post. Other than trying to learn to clean properly, I guess nothing has changed. I am going to try an MMA class in Moreton in the forthcoming weeks - I need some more controlled violence in my life, so I guess the blog might take a turn into an itinerary of my injuries, which are bound to be plentiful. Still, nothing ventured and all that.
