(Project pretty is a personal commitment to share my weekly journey of keeping my non-New-Year's-Resolution: staying fit to improve quality of life while inspiring others to do the same. Let's all jump on the endorphin wagon!)
Working on weekends makes driving to and from work much less complicated, but on weekdays it's a different story. I've had to develop special routes and timing is of the essence. As a delivery nurse, my goal is to get out of the hospital by 0630, so I can cruise through all the school zones before the super slow speed limits take effect (when I'm dead tired, 3 zones can feel like driving 50 miles going 3.5 mph). But when I have an assignment or a super busy night, I'm lucky to leave by 0715 at the earliest, inevitably cursing me to creep home in the middle of morning chaos. Partially due to sun shock, and partially from unwillingly losing an internal battle to fight against the exhaustion, I try my hardest to keep my eye lids from creeping closed.
The latter scenario of the two is exactly what I was faced with this week, except when the signs for the school zones started to appear, no one slowed down. I was the weirdo who put on the brakes, but immediately sped back up to avoid getting run over by the eager drivers who were probably late to work because they hit their snooze button one too many times after staying up late to watch the NBA finals. I thought we were all being school zone rebels, or that I was too tired to comprehend the signs, consequently forgetting how to follow them.
But actually, as rumor has it, school's out for summer!!
Duh. Silly me.
At the gym, I've been taking it easy all week on the stationary bike, followed by some upper body weight training and a few of my go-to core exercises. There I was, sucked deep into my book, when I was interrupted by a trainer who was asking if I wanted to come to his body pump class in T-4 minutes. He assured me he'd include safe modifications for my calf strain, so I agreed to show. 1 hour later I found myself driving home with arms so fatigued I could barely raise my longest finger high enough to pick my nose. It was nice to be back in a friendly competitive, by comparison, environment with someone to hold me accountable for reps, making me push myself harder than if I was solo. And now I can't move a single muscle in my body without grimacing.
Cheers to muscle confusion!
Does anyone else think it's really cool to watch their hands under the xlerater hand dryer transform into a loose flappy mess of skin, like for that moment, it belonged to a 112 year old person, because I am fascinated with it?
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Cheers to muscle confusion!
Does anyone else think it's really cool to watch their hands under the xlerater hand dryer transform into a loose flappy mess of skin, like for that moment, it belonged to a 112 year old person, because I am fascinated with it?
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