Hell Week Begins

For the last couple of days I keep insisting to Husband that I’m going to start working out again.  I need to start working out again.

Although I weigh more and look bigger than I ever have in my life, it has nothing to do with that.  Personally I’m happy with my figure now that I don’t look like a stick anymore.

The thing that does matter to me is the fact that I’m seriously struggling on our family bike rides now.  We have two bike trailers for our three kids.  Husband pulls the 25 pound Buddy, I pull the 25 combined pounds of Peanut and Bear.  Remmy goes on a leash with one of us and we’re off.  Normally we would just bring Buddy and Remmy and Husband would be the cart horse. But as of yesterday we now have two carts and I have no choice but to pull my own weight.  (It was nice while it lasted…)


I’m so out of shape.  It didn’t help that we were about three miles out and when we turned around we were going face first into the wind, then had to pedal up a massive hill (which I always struggle with without a trailer!).  I was panting like a DOG by the time I got to the bottom of the hill.  I was trying so hard to keep up with husband, but by the time I got to the base of that hill he was already at the top.  I played with my gears and got to work.

*click. click.*
*pedal pedal.. pedal… pedal… … pedal… … … peeeeeeeedaaaaaaal…*


Thank god for first gear.  It took about ten thousand pedals going .01312 mph, but I made it to the top.  By the time I got up there, husband was nowhere to be seen.  He was probably already home half a mile away.  My legs felt like fire and rubber all at once.  By the time I got home I was wheezing and practically tipping off of the side of the bike.  I turned into the driveway and stopped and nearly stumbled off of the bike.

*never. again.*

I was ready to collapse.  Within an hour though I began thinking about the bike and how I already felt better.  I remembered I’ve been telling husband that I wanted to start running and working out again.  I technically had day one down already of ‘hell week’.  You know, that first week of working out that makes you feel like you’re destroying your body.  Then after that first week, sometimes two, your body starts to just get used to the daily beating and you recover faster and feel SO MUCH better.

I decided that it was officially time to work out again.  Day one was over anyway.

Thankfully I knew what to expect to feel like this morning or I think I’d have quit the second I woke up.  I was SO soar.  *one day down… on day down…*  When husband got home from work today, I took the dog and went for a run on the beach.  Then I made the dumbest decision of the day by letting Remmy off of the leash.  I forgot how excited he gets at the leash and how loud the waves are.  He was running in and out of the water with me screaming his name chasing him down with flailing arms.  Hmm… out of shape mother of three vs. 1 1/2 year old exuberant puppy.  Puppy wins. Hands down.  Even if he did hear me yelling over the waves he was having way too much fun jumping over them.  (They were honestly probably about 2-3 feet high today)  The only reason I got him back was because he saw me sitting on the beach trying to catch my breath and he wanted to come play with me.  I think I made it 1.5 miles before I had to turn around and alternate jogging and walking back.  My knees hurt so bad.  I never had this before.  Lately my knees have been bothering me more and more.  Every time I squat they feel like they’re burning or there’s a shooting pain.  I’m hoping it’s a temporary problem, but I know working out won’t help.  Depending on how I feel after my run tomorrow I may have to restrict myself to biking only which is a total bummer because I used to love running.

My hope is that it’s just because I haven’t done any working out since before the girls were born and I just need to work the cobwebs out.  (I also hope next time I don’t have to begin my long run at a dead sprint…)  We’ll see.  In the meantime I told husband I need a good long leg massage tonight and he should make me some tacos.  He happily obliged.  I think I can get away with anything for the next few weeks because he’s so happy I’m attempting to work out again.  That alone is worth the misery of Hell Week.


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