Because nothing but workout talk is boring (even though this is as much for my own records as for public entertainemnt) I’ll talk about something else, but I’m almost 2 weeks into the Insanity, and while I don’t think I’ve lost weight, I do feel muscles yelling at me from places that have usually been very quiet. Have you ever strained your own ass? I have. Holy tilapia, does that hurt. Makes sitting somewhat uncomfortable and sitting is one of my favorite things to do!

First: debate of the day: do I (a) read a book I’ve been working on or (b) go see “Vampires Suck” at noon? I’m leaning toward work AM, reading PM, movie tomorrow. Especially because yesterday I was a bit of a slacker.

Second: Freebird’s camp has staff tipping. I HATE THIS. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I hate a tipping policy. It’s a northeastern US camp thing, and all the camps I’ve worked at (which is several) never allowed tipping for the staff. His day camp has tipping. UGH. It’s so freaking bothersome. I think it encourages favoritism and preferential treatment and sends the wrong motivational message. From the camp’s POV, if every other camp in the northeast does it (which almost all of them do) it makes it more difficult to find and keep good staff if the staff know they could get more money - and tips - elsewhere. I still loathe it. LOATHE. Strongly worded letter to the board, I’m writes one.

Third: I’ve become totally disenchanted with my easy-quick-supper repertoire, and am looking for quick and easy recipes. But I’m pretty pick: must be mostly protein with very, and I mean very, little carbohydrates. The sad truth of my ass, which is still sore, thanks for asking, is that for every gram of carb I eat, I gain five pounds. That’s actual math, too. I’m not exaggerating. So dinners are meat or fish or chicken (or chicken sausage), beans, greens or corn. Or sweet potatoes if I’m feeling really risqué.

Tonight I’m trying a chicken provencal recipe that allegedly can be completed in 30 minutes. Here’s hoping. But if you have quick and easy, high-protein recipes, particularly those with really flavory sauces, send ‘em my way. If the provencal recipe is good, I’ll post it here.

Which reminds me. I have to clean a car seat and get some chicken breasts defrosted, stat.

I was supposed to work out over the weekend, but since we spent Saturday at the beach in Connecticut and Sunday managing energetic dudes on a cloudy rainy day, I didn’t. I should have, though - the workout for today was cardio recovery, which was part balance, part stretching, part yoga, and part torturing my quads and groin muscles (I think I pulled one - ugh).

One thing I do like about the workout routines is that it makes me conscious of my quads and core and arms and what random muscles are doing when I’m not working out.

In other stuff, I stayed up too late watching the Hoff get badly roasted, so now I need to stare into space and attempt to be productive. This might not end well. 

What I like about this crazy ass program is that I don’t need equipment. I just need a big ass glass of water and a towel to mop my “glowing” head. Today was tricep work and cardio sprints of various types, and of course I couldn’t do every last one, but I did more than yesterday.

I need to go lie down for a week now. I must be outta my mind.

The fit test nearly knocked me over, proving how Not Fit I am, and today I did the first workout, which has some kind of name like Plyometric Asskickeration or something. I couldn’t even do the whole thing- and neither could some of the people IN the video, which made me feel slightly less like a total doofus. There’s a lot of squatting, bending, lunging, and jumping, which is good because I don’t need equipment or to set up anything, but on the other hand, my knees are not pleased with me since I do this workout in my kitchen on a hardwood floor. Knee pads might be in order.

But sweet holy moses, I need a new sports bra. I think this one is either stretched out, too big, or both, but I can’t do any card with my boobs bouncing on my chest. It’s like running while someone is doing CPR on you. Off to figure out my bra size and order a new one. Ooof.

I hope this is worth it. I think part of the problem is that I think truly fit people literally live in the gym. I know intellectually that’s not true - unless they’re models or trainers or something, and then they probably do live in a gym. But I should be able to see results in a half hour to 40 minute workout six out of seven days.

I am going to be SORE tomorrow. Oy. 

I’m going public with this one: I’m doing the Insanity workout for the next 60 days as much as I can manage.

The fit test nearly broke me, so tomorrow I’ll be blogging using one finger and some exhausted gesturing. 

Hi! Remember me? Yeah. Pneumonia. And a website. That explains all.

I’m thinking about my resolutions for 2010 a lot lately. I do two sets of New Year’s resolutions, one at Rosh Hashana, and one at New Year’s. This year, I think I have to stop noticing or caring what other people think of me, and that includes all those pesky Google Alerts.

It really, and I mean REALLY bugs the ever loving crap out of me when people get all bent out of shape on what I decide to do with a website. I mean, really. Isn’t the internet big enough that you can do your thing and I can do mine and why on EARTH does what I do affect anyone else at all? So, in order to stop contributing to my own feelings of complete irritation, I’m going to set my world up so I notice far, far less what people are saying. Noli nothi permittere te terere.

I also have to start getting to bed earlier. Jeebus. I need caffeine. 

Baba: 103F. However, partying like it’s 1999 and he’s Prince.

Freebird: Drawing animals that LOOK like the animals. I did some drawing with his 494,577,454 crayons and we had a good old time. I can’t wait to go to camp this month with him. Note to self: draw more with Freebird.

Hubby: home with Baba. Poor guy.

Me: Tired.

Happy Monday!