What a way to end a Monday. Kicking my own ass in the basement to my very first P90X workout DVD. Day 1 = Chest & Back. Aside from my complete lack of ability to even do a modified push-up, I managed to do half of this workout using resistance bands. It looked much easier than my hardcore hubby's real military push-ups on the floor. He was grunting and groaning and not giving in. I did 35 minutes of the workout with the bands and said "Screw this shit, I won't even be able to lift a bowling ball tomorrow when I go with my kid's preschool class. I need to stop." So I stopped. And yesterday morning I woke up thinking "Did someone try to rip my arms off in my sleep?"
I hate chest and back exercises. I thought they were my least favorite. After a mild bitch-fest on Facebook about how I didn't want to do that and how I'd rather create some buns of steel on my backside, my friend Damon suggested Disc 2- Plyometrics, telling me it's much more my style. Damon have we met? In the 20+ yrs I've known you did you have some warped idea that I like to try to kill myself through exercise? Good god, P90X are you trying to take me out?!
Mistake #1 was telling my husband to start without me and I'd be right down. I missed 5 minutes of the warm up and raced through my stretches.
Mistake #2 was pushing myself through exercises that literally made me fall on my ass. The P90X guy stresses the importance of stopping when you need to. Make it burn but don't go too far. I promise you P90X guy, I will do this next time.
Mistake #3 was to sleep on the couch. I do this most nights since my husband works 3rd shift, my bedroom is a never-ending mess, and I just prefer the couch.
When I woke up this morning unable to move I instantly regretted all the choices I made last night. What have I done to my back? How didn't I hurt my back with the Chest & Back workout, and I did hurt it with Plyometrics? If anyone wants to bump me off, today's the day to do it. I couldn't get away from you if I tried. I'm resisting getting up to get my boy a bowl of cereal. I've tried as well as I could to put Icy Hot on this very localized back injury (extremely hard to do when you can't move ANYTHING) and popped a few ibuprofen (the strongest med in my house unfortunately) and I think I will be useless on the couch all day. I do have a lunch date that I refuse to miss and some fruit to buy for my girl's night tonight, then I'm refusing to move.
I'm full of it already. I think I'll have to remind my husband that taking the trash out is a man's job. (His words not mine, I'm just going along with this chauvinistic bullshit so I don't have to take out the trash, clean the gutters, or mow the lawn.) Enter garbage truck #1, which is thankfully always earlier than my own, so I can race outside with my own herbie curbie before my truck gets there. Every one of my close neighbors uses a different trash service. My kid is in garbage truck heaven. I'm in more of a I-will-beat-your-ass-Dave-if-you-forget-this-next-week mood. Also, Planet you are welcome, I lugged down both full recycling bins also.
It's too early for this much bitching. Besides that, I'm pre-coffee. Never a good thing. I'll end this with an OWWWWWW.