Day Five: Damn You, 6am Wakeup

Even on day 5, it's hard. My calves no longer ache all the time (at least, not as much as before), but the workout in general is really hard. And doing it during the work week is extra hard. So I'm not only sore but sore and tired. So tired that I fell asleep on the bus Monday morning, and again during a training session when I got here. Well, not completely asleep but the nodding off kind of asleep I used to fall during my infant development class during college after pulling an all-nighter. (I don't know why it was always that class but I swear it was. I also don't know how getting 6-6.5 hours of sleep became the equivalent of an all-nighter but it clearly has.) I may need to start setting the coffee maker to autobrew so I can get a cup before we leave in the morning and avoid the exhaustion that sets in by 8:00.

It does seem to be worth it, though. Maybe. I think. I am feeling a bit fitter now than I was a week ago. I feel somewhat stronger. And I think muscles are now reforming beneath my layers of blubber. (Though there's still a lot of blubber.) Hooray for small victories.

Coming back to the timing issue, doing this over the weekend was not so bad. When Harry took a nap, I did the workout, then showered, and generally had time to spare before he woke up. Doing it during the week is much harder. I really wanted to avoid seeing a 5 on the clock, so I've been getting up at 6 on the dot this week. 6:00 - 6:07, I get changed into workout clothes, go to the bathroom, fill a water bottle, get the TV on, and get the program on. 6:07-6:33, I do the workout. (Yeah, it's 25 minutes, not 20, once you factor in the (very minimal amount of) stretching she does before and after.) 6:34-6:44, I shower and get dressed (usually just into something loungy, waiting to dress for work until I'm ready to leave in case someone spits up on me). Then I attend to the child.

Speaking of the child, Harry seems to have decided that whenever I get up is when he will get up, so he plays with his crib toy and/or with his little Piglet and Pooh Bear until P gets out of bed and retrieves him. P changes his diaper, and then they talk to the dog and read stories in Harry's room until I'm out of the shower and ready to feed him. We still get an hour or more of nursing and playtime in the morning before I have to get him dressed and finish packing him up. But the morning definitely feels more rushed now. And even though it's only 15 minutes earlier, I am not a fan of the 6am wakeup.

Damn you, 6am wakeup. I hate you, but I can survive anything for 30 days, I suppose.

Day Two: Feeling Shredded

But more like, say, cheese than in any bodybuilding kind of way.

Day One: Not so bad. It was a hard 20 minutes, but I forced myself to finish it. She kept reminding me that looking better/feeling more healthy wouldn't come for free and that if I wanted it to only cost 20 minutes of my time I couldn't dial it in. So I tried not to. Things that were more agonizing: jumping rope, push-ups, lunges, those front arm raises. Things that were less agonizing: jumping jacks, punching, ab work, squats.

Day Two: Much harder than Day One. People say it gets easier, but I know from experience that Day Two is often the hardest -- your body is still pissed at you for making it do something on Day One. Jumping rope was less bad than the day before but the push-ups were like slowly dying. I had to take a breather. Twice. In, like, thirty seconds. The ab work was a little easier too. But the rest of the stuff that was hard yesterday was as bad or worse.

I'm sure I didn't set myself up for an easier day tomorrow by going for what was supposed to be a hike but turned out to be more of a leisurely stroll this afternoon. We'll see. I am also really not looking forward to having to get up at an hour that starts with 5 on purpose in order to do this. Ick. 30 days. I suppose I can survive anything for 30 days.

Isn't That Something You Do To Paper?

My dieting efforts have fallen a bit by the wayside lately. I've been eating badly. And opting not to get on the scale as a result. I know I need to get myself back on track but just don't feel like it, which is the same bad attitude that landed me in this fat situation in the first place. Needless to say, I should not have eaten an entire small Boboli pizza for dinner last night, even if I did use low fat cheese on it.

Historically, I stayed fairly healthy through exercise. I enjoy exercise. Or I enjoy feeling fit and seem more capable of knowing that exercise = fit than that not eating like it might be my last meal = less fat. But I no longer have time to exercise. Or, I have time but it would mean cutting into either time with Harry or sleep, neither one of which I am really psyched to give up. So I've been pondering this issue lately.

In my pondering, I've come to feel like everyone out there is into Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred. It's only 20 minutes a day. I can do 20 minutes a day. Maybe. I can at least try. I guess. It's available On Demand from Com.cast. At least parts 1 and 2 are. So I'll give it a whirl. 30 days seems like about the maximum amount of focus I'm capable of giving to anything these days (like, say, my dieting efforts or my Wii Fit kick).