Working out has never been anything I really enjoy. There is all that sweat and heart pounding and slight discomfort from those muscles I don't use. Even during sex, I hate that sweaty feeling, it makes me feel like I'm crazy out of shape, which I am. But I have to admit that sitting on a chair after my workout and feeling the sweat drip off my chin into my bra, makes me feel like I accomplished something. I'm not really sure that I have. But, damnit, I'm trying. Which should mean something. And should make this ugly pouch of a stomach go away.
I'm trying to get used to a length of time before I push myself to the next one. Right now it's 37 minutes. And I get 2 miles in that time. I also played with the weights for a bit this morning after I worked out. But I don't have a routine there and I'm hesitant to do something stupid. I don't think I'm going to be able to work out tomorrow morning, but I should be able to get something in on Saturday before I have to checkout and then come back to the hotel. It's oddly funny that I need to check in to my flight for Sunday back here to Indy before I've even gotten on the plane to leave.
Oh well, into the shower I go.
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