I skipped the gym two days in a row. Ugh. I split a piece of carrot cake one of those nights, and had a hamburger (just 2 bites of bun, but still) and a few french fries the next.
Time to snap it all back!
I hit the gym this afternoon and super-charged my spin workout. I warmed up for 5 minutes, then did a set of Tabata intervals to get my heart rate up. That’s four minutes of 20 seconds going flat out as hard as I could with 10 seconds rest between those bursts. I got 24 minutes into the workout, and did another set of intervals to goose myself. Overall, I burned 300 calories in 44 minutes, and sweated plenty.
So, what’s been keeping me away from the gym? I aggravated an old injury. Well, less of an injury, really, than a wound, I guess. About 10 years ago, I had a (in retrospect – too long a story for today) hilarious introduction to the reality of living with a pilonidal cyst, which is essentially a spot with the potential to be sore and inflammed that sits right at the base of your spine/tailbone.
I’ve gathered up all of the neck wraps filled with buckwheat or whatnot that I can find and am using them to sit upon so as not to aggravate the situation any further. The spin bike seat is probably not the best thing for it, frankly, but that is the exercise that allows me to push myself super hard, so it is a trade-off. I’ve taken some naproxen sodium to deal with the afterburn and am just going to push through.
I’ve taken it a little easy on myself for the past couple of weeks, trying not to worry, fret, and plan all of my eating and exercising in quite so obsessively a manner. I’ve put in some time on my other two blogs (one political, one professional, both sadly neglected for the past year), painted some furniture, and donated more of my size 20+ clothes so that I don’t have the option of growing back into them.
I’ll try to be a better blog friend to everyone – I have been reading, but not commenting, and that needs to change. I do turn to you all for motivation, so thanks for being there!
The title of this post comes from a poem in a wacky little museum that’s part of a delightfully odd folk art site in town. The poem, really a prose-poem, tells the story of two frogs who fall into a butter churn. They both start to frog-kick, but one tuckers out, gives up, and drowns. The other keeps going, which eventually turns the cream into a pat of butter, which he hops onto and uses to escape the churn.
The lesson? I think there are two. One, butter can save your life! And two, keep a-kicking. You have the power to get yourself out of anything.