Wednesday, 30 June 2004

tired

I fought with a fitball for 3x9 hamstring curls. I am not sure I'm working my hamstrings as much as my utterly nonexistent abdominal muscles. I have a serious paunch going, as if I had borne about 18 children.

Then Precor Elliptical, 30' of an alleged weightloss program and 15' manual. The machine claimed more than 600 total calories burned, and fewer strides than when 45' all manual. Also I used two 5-pound handweights, though not for the whole 45'. And my heartrate ranged around 135 bpm, which might officially be in the "fat-burning zone" but it doesn't feel like much.

I cooled down on a treadmill, a 15% incline and 3 mph, intending to walk until my heartrate was under 100 bpm, but what the hell, after 5' I threw in the towel. I finished with as many crunches on the squishy disk--there has to be a name for that--as I could manage, which wasn't many.

And then I soaked in the whirlpool with The Portrait of a Lady.

fuckity

The fridge finally arrived. With it, four sets of roller indentations and one dent in the newly refinished kitchen floor.

Hooray.