Weeks 6 and 7: Scales of Injustice
Aug. 21st, 2010 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogI didn't add to this collection last week because I took most of the week off from everything but cardio. My trainer was in Mejico for her 20th anniversary and, for the first time since beginning this effort, I had no weight workouts scheduled for an entire week. I determined to fashion one from a combination of what we'd been doing and what I remembered of circuit training from Old Days, and got one in late last week in addition to five days out of seven on the elliptical.
Ultimately, I heard the scale calling me again, and I gave in to that call, but to some rather shocking news once I did: it told me that compared to my starting weight (known around these parts as n,), I was down a good 15 pounds from where it was when I first started checking it barely three weeks before. But then, just to tease me some more, I adjusted my feet on the bathroom-floored scale and n-15 instantly turned into n-30, before bouncing up and down through a variety of three-digit numbers making no sense whatsoever.
Eleanor!, I eventually asked. Is that digital scale known for being especially wonky?
The reply came: You have to put it on the hardwood floor in the hallway, or the bathroom floor tiles screw it up.
After all that, the number came out as n-3 from where I'd more-or-less begun, a pound or so below where I'd been the last time I checked.
Baby steps, Ray.
----
Today, then, resulted in a similar one: after some similar jockeying for position on various floors, and after three fairly intense workouts plus four half-hour-plusses of cardio (but also after an even more intense workweek including a rare Saturday court appearance earlier today, more than our usual share of take-out food ,and WAY more than my recent amount of stress-snacking), we stand at n-5 ish- either two pounds, or a pound-and-a-half (the .5's are confusing me) down from where things really turned out to be last weekend.
As a modest moving target of a goal, I'm determined to get myself to a point where there is less of me than there are two of my trainer's. She's also blogging her progress on a regular basis, and her current weight is a reasonable one to aim for twice of (although, curse her, she's way more likely to be dropping more and faster than I will). We also have only one remaining session before a roughly two-week break in the routine; I will keep up the cardio, and try fashioning some carryover workouts while we're off, but I fully expect n to be standing for news (bad) before we resume a different weekly routine after Labor Day.
That may not resemble the Labors of Hercules, but I'll settle for any strength inspiration I can find right about now.
Ultimately, I heard the scale calling me again, and I gave in to that call, but to some rather shocking news once I did: it told me that compared to my starting weight (known around these parts as n,), I was down a good 15 pounds from where it was when I first started checking it barely three weeks before. But then, just to tease me some more, I adjusted my feet on the bathroom-floored scale and n-15 instantly turned into n-30, before bouncing up and down through a variety of three-digit numbers making no sense whatsoever.
Eleanor!, I eventually asked. Is that digital scale known for being especially wonky?
The reply came: You have to put it on the hardwood floor in the hallway, or the bathroom floor tiles screw it up.
After all that, the number came out as n-3 from where I'd more-or-less begun, a pound or so below where I'd been the last time I checked.
Baby steps, Ray.
----
Today, then, resulted in a similar one: after some similar jockeying for position on various floors, and after three fairly intense workouts plus four half-hour-plusses of cardio (but also after an even more intense workweek including a rare Saturday court appearance earlier today, more than our usual share of take-out food ,and WAY more than my recent amount of stress-snacking), we stand at n-5 ish- either two pounds, or a pound-and-a-half (the .5's are confusing me) down from where things really turned out to be last weekend.
As a modest moving target of a goal, I'm determined to get myself to a point where there is less of me than there are two of my trainer's. She's also blogging her progress on a regular basis, and her current weight is a reasonable one to aim for twice of (although, curse her, she's way more likely to be dropping more and faster than I will). We also have only one remaining session before a roughly two-week break in the routine; I will keep up the cardio, and try fashioning some carryover workouts while we're off, but I fully expect n to be standing for news (bad) before we resume a different weekly routine after Labor Day.
That may not resemble the Labors of Hercules, but I'll settle for any strength inspiration I can find right about now.