When I got to the gym yesterday, my padlock wasn’t in the usual spot in my car, and wasn’t at lost and found. I’m uncharacteristically attached to my lock. I bought it second-hand in grad school, and the combination starts off with two numbers that, because of a song my husband’s band sings and a photograph he used to keep on his amp that allegedly inspired the song, are very easy to remember.
I had my purse—wallet, credit cards, iPhone, piece of paper I use to track my weight loss on the doctor’s office scale—and almost used not having a place to put that as an excuse to go home without working out.
So I wouldn’t look totally lame just walking out, I went up to the locker room just to see if I’d left it sitting on the bench. I’d actually left it hanging in the locker, but, because I had left it open, no one had cut it off.
That was close. Small victory #1.
For whatever reason, I left my music at home, thinking I’d like to just hear the gym music. There was some special event going on down at the basketball level, however, which meant they’d turned off the music in the cardio/weight room (it looks down on the courts). I decided that I could still push myself without music, but thought I’d try the elliptical trainer instead of walking.
I promised myself, however, that I’d only do 15 minutes on the elliptical. I didn’t want to overdo it and feel badly. I’m still a little worried about triggering whatever weird exercise/dehydration response I’ve had in the past.
Quite honestly, too, I didn’t think I could do 30 minutes on the elliptical. I was already out of breath by the time I got on the thing just from walking up the steps to the fourth floor.
From the second floor.
I got on the thing, however, and as I approached 15 minutes, I decided to go to 20. Then, at 20, 25. I did stop at 25, however, because I’d burned almost 200 calories and gone 1.7 miles (more than 3,000 strides), and I am supposed to limit myself during this 800-calorie phase of the diet. I could have done 30, but I didn’t want to push myself into starvation zone.
Small victories #2 and #3. Getting on the machine despite my doubt, and then being responsible about stopping instead of pushing harder than I’m supposed to.
The reward? I got to eat a hard-cooked egg! To compensate for the calories burned that put me below 800 for the day, and to keep me from bonking after the workout, I can eat either an egg or a piece of cheese.
I used my bento egg molds to make both a bear and a bunny egg. I fed the bunny to the dogs, and at the bear. I tried to take a good picture of the eggs, but I was impatient, the light was wrong … you’ll have to wait. (And, really, since most of you are adults with exciting lives of your own, you may not actually care about seeing a boiled egg molded into the shape of a bunny head.)