So lemme think. Friday was my usual routine. I did leg curls and my hamstring DID NOT BOTHER ME AT ALL. KNOCK ON WOOD. So that was exciting. Then, I did my cardio.
I'd just gotten the DVD of our last bout, and when I watched it I couldn't believe how fucking SLOW I skated. Good Lord, I was watching myself yelling (well, not really, but you know what I mean) "SKATE FASTER, SKATE FASTER!" but I know when I was in the moment I was going as fast as I could.
So, I went on what I think is called the gazelle machine? It seemed to replicate skating motions. Anyway, I set it for half an hour. I'd do a minute going as fast as I could (stride rate over 180) and then two minutes with a stride rate of 130. I kept uping the time I went fast until I could do a full two minutes with a stride rate over 180. Since a jam is two minutes long at most, that's the fastest I would ever need to skate in one chunk of time.
Except then I remembered that part of the WFTDA (Women's Flat Track Derby Association) requirements is that you have to be able to skate 25 laps in five minutes. Crap.
So that was Friday. Saturday I ate too much.
Sunday I was all set to go to the gym, and then I got horrendously, horrendously, horrifically pissed over an e-mail exchange I was going through, and I got all consumed in my rage and pisseditude. I started throwing together stuff to go to the gym - packing a change of clothes, since I figured I'd wear my gym stuff there. Then I realized I probably shouldn't since I was gonna wear shorts and it was cold out, so I changed into civilian clothes.
See what I missed?
I get to the gym and realize I have packed a pair of jeans and I am wearing a pair of jeans.
I was so pissed that I just went home. I did go sledding later, and trudging up the hill in full winter gear was cardio, right? And I actually managed to pull my 65 pound kid up the hill on his sled for more than a fair amount of footage, so that's something, right?
RIGHT?
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