So I ended up taking last week off of the gym, since Josh was home and off work.
Yesterday I took a kickboxing class.
And let me tell you, I kicked the crap out of that box. Or, I would have if there was an actual box to kick.
I kept my core tight and punched hard.
I was a champion.
(I'm comparing this to my usual kickboxing effort, which has more to do with watching the clock and having childcare than any motivation to get fit.)
Then today I took a weight class. You know, like squats and lunges and dumbbells and pushups and pain.
I was completely spent at the end of the class. And within the hour, I was completely sore.
Now I'm moving around like I'm 80 years old and moaning with every move I make.
It is not good.
I predict that I may have to roll out of bed tomorrow because I might not be able to stand up.
But I'll have to get up, because I have to get Alex to school before the 9 o'clock kickboxing class.
I'm bringing it ladies.
And I'm not buying any more Oreos either.
It's time to get serious.
Now I'm going to go take a hot shower and loosen up a bit. Then I'm going to curl up on the couch with some ice cream.
You didn't think I was going cold-turkey did you?