I continue to fend off the flu with my parent powers. Or whatever.
Yesterday was a strength workout, plus a swim. I will detail the workout ad nauseam on Sunday’s Workout Log, but for the love of God….part of this strength workout included two terribly frightening components:
Squats
and
Plank Series
Now, just the mere mention of the word “squat” sent me into terrible flashbacks. Sweats. Random shaking of the head. Muttering. Weightlifting. Squats. And for my weightlifting friends (past and present)… let me tell you just how much I did. Oh yeah. 3 sets of 10. With the final set being 40 kilos (95 pounds). Aren’t you proud of me. For the love…. I felt like I was busting out some serious squats, because the 95 pounds was so difficult. How sad.
Did I ever really squat 140 kilos (308 lbs)? I think that was some dream/nightmare.
The Plank Series. I really can’t even talk about this without feeling shame. And the kind of shame ….like I grabbed a tub of ice cream and cookies and sat in my closet and ate – kind of shame. Front, side and bank plank positions – supposed to be held for one minute each. Hello, fifteen seconds. Core strength = zero. Falling down on mat = ten.
I’ve been dreaming about triathlon lately. I never dreamed about weightlifting. But I had a friend in weightlifting who used to dream about the clean and jerk all the time. I was sleeping on the bottom bunk at a Junior National Training Camp back in 1997 – she was on the top bunk – and every ten minutes, she would rattle the whole room. Apparently, she was performing super power cleans in her sleep – rocking the whole damn bed. She would say “up” too, at the same time.
I asked her about it the next day, especially the use of the word “up”, since she didn’t use that in lifting. She didn’t know. Neither did I.
If the Expert wasn’t in Australia, last night he would have heard me telling someone in T2 that I was missing my running socks, and I wasn’t really worried about the marathon. And that the run was my strongest part of the race (!)
Interestingly, in my dreams I am never running a sprint or Olympic distance race. It’s always the Iron distance. And I’m a really strong runner in said dreams. We won’t interpret these dreams… yet.
Hump day, ya’ll. It’s 5:15am. I have R.E.M. stuck in my head: I’m pushing an elephant up the stairs, I’m tossing out punchlines that were never there….
I need to start my day. And a good day it will be!
