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I got all motivated and such on Tuesday after my Quest to Carrie's Legs post, and went off to the gym, all amped up and empowered. Since the treadmills were all full, I spent 10 minutes as The Hawk on the stairmaster (Lord have mercy to THAT exertion...), and pounced on the first dreadmill that I saw open up. Just my luck, it was one of the lucky ones that was not only without a private TV, but was too far out of the way to see the line of main TVs at the front of the room. Ah, yes-- my sweaty, red, huffin' and puffin' face was instead facing the front desk, making it one of the first sights for my fellow gym-goers to see upon entering.
Whatevs- I have no shame in bringing my game at the gym.
After a good half hour/3 mile run of death (I just couldn't find the rhythm), I headed over to the weight area to fit in some quality time with my bootay. Considering it's been awhile since I last consistently did any sort of weight training program, I grabbed the lowest weights available at the station - 15 pound dumbbells - and headed to the mats. I knew I had very limited time because Brian was wrapping up his run, so I jauntily did 10 backwards lunges on each leg, rested, then did 10 more on each leg. No big deal, right? (Note: I just tried to upload a Googled pic of a backwards lunge, just for effects purposes, and I almost killed my work computer. Thursday-1, Katie-0.)
Y'all. Today, two days after the damage, I am waddling around like a duck. Climbing the stairs at the train station this morning was pure torture. Walking to the end of the hallway to pick up something from the copier can be compared to some sort of medieval torture practice. The saddest part? EACH LEG ONLY DID 20 LUNGES. While I'm proud that I took the lunge (oh, how punny am I?!) and broke the weight lifting-ice just in time to kick off Prepping for Bathing Suits Season, I am also SO aware of all of the little muscles that I'm always envying. Inner thighs? Oh yes. My hammies? Check! Glutes, are you there? Present!
Carrie, I salute you in all of your glory. There's a reason you have some of the best legs around and that you flaunt them every darn chance you get-- once my Quest for Carrie's Legs is complete, you can bet your bottom I'll be doing the same.
Sidenote: I'm obsessed with neither Carrie Underwood OR her legs. I promise. That's creepy. Girlfriend is FIT though, and my prime motivation factor. So don't be all "Um, why is Katie always talking about this country singer's legs? Weird much?" loveyallthanks.
I have a little bloggie challenge that I'm participating in, but that deserves its own post, so that's all I've got for now :)
Whatevs- I have no shame in bringing my game at the gym.
After a good half hour/3 mile run of death (I just couldn't find the rhythm), I headed over to the weight area to fit in some quality time with my bootay. Considering it's been awhile since I last consistently did any sort of weight training program, I grabbed the lowest weights available at the station - 15 pound dumbbells - and headed to the mats. I knew I had very limited time because Brian was wrapping up his run, so I jauntily did 10 backwards lunges on each leg, rested, then did 10 more on each leg. No big deal, right? (Note: I just tried to upload a Googled pic of a backwards lunge, just for effects purposes, and I almost killed my work computer. Thursday-1, Katie-0.)
Y'all. Today, two days after the damage, I am waddling around like a duck. Climbing the stairs at the train station this morning was pure torture. Walking to the end of the hallway to pick up something from the copier can be compared to some sort of medieval torture practice. The saddest part? EACH LEG ONLY DID 20 LUNGES. While I'm proud that I took the lunge (oh, how punny am I?!) and broke the weight lifting-ice just in time to kick off Prepping for Bathing Suits Season, I am also SO aware of all of the little muscles that I'm always envying. Inner thighs? Oh yes. My hammies? Check! Glutes, are you there? Present!
Carrie, I salute you in all of your glory. There's a reason you have some of the best legs around and that you flaunt them every darn chance you get-- once my Quest for Carrie's Legs is complete, you can bet your bottom I'll be doing the same.
Sidenote: I'm obsessed with neither Carrie Underwood OR her legs. I promise. That's creepy. Girlfriend is FIT though, and my prime motivation factor. So don't be all "Um, why is Katie always talking about this country singer's legs? Weird much?" loveyallthanks.
I have a little bloggie challenge that I'm participating in, but that deserves its own post, so that's all I've got for now :)
I cannot tell a lie. I am straight up obsessed with her. Her hair, her legs, her voice. I don't want to wear her skin or anything, but I wouldn't mind being mistaken for a Carrie twin.
ReplyDeleteShe is amazing. Those legs? I'd kill for them!
ReplyDeleteI love her! I would do anything to have her body, especially those legs :-) Maybe this should be my motivation picture!
ReplyDelete