First, a bit of boasting. Yes, I know, it’s tiresome, but…
Last night I finished work at 6.50pm. And, despite the fact that all I wanted to do was drag myself off to my bed, I went to gym. To make it even more impressive (drum roll, please) I worked very hard on the crosstrainer and treadmill. Now, I know you’re not supposed to really measure it like this, but I completely smashed my calorie burning records.
I was thoroughly impressed with myself. And yes, I turned into the crazy muttering woman in the corner as I kept egging myself on. I was just thrilled with myself for choosing to stick to the commitment I’d made. I hadn’t been able to go in the morning since I had a man in a blue mask trying to climb down my throat at 8am. The dentist – oh injections are a great way to start a Wednesday.
To make it all the more impressive, I’d had to miss out on having dinner with my friends, at Arnold’s in Kloof Street, so that I could stick to my plan. And while it may have been vaguely masochistic to join them after gym, and then still ask them what they’d all eaten, I really do think I made the right decision.
Besides, I’m going out for dinner tonight with a friend and I’m almost certainly going to order the crispy duck pancakes. So I just need to balance all my other choices around that.
At gym last night I walked a wide circle around the scale. I figure that having a run-in with it once a week is more than enough. So Monday is the official day.
I’ve also decided that I far rather prefer going to gym in the morning before work. Firstly, it wakes me up and gets me ready for the day, and secondly, it’s not as busy and the atmosphere isn’t so – driven. A fellow gymmer (I don’t care if it’s not a real word) in the change room suggested it could be because in the morning no one has woken up enough yet. I think she’s right.
Oh and thirdly, walking on the treadmill at night is a bit horrifying. Because the window, which in the morning gives me a view out over the workers chasing bakkies up Strand Street, at night turns into a tell-tale mirror. It’s a bit disconcerting, feeling like I’m making an amazing effort and then looking up to see that I look just the same as I did the day before. But I consoled myself with the fact that in a few months I’ll be able to see the hard work pay off. I’d better, otherwise I may just be overtaken by super-human strength and some of the aforementioned workers may find themselves squashed by a treadmill or six.
I’ll be going to gym this evening before dinner. Call it a desperate attempt to make having crispy duck pancakes a little more “okay”. Duck is one of those things that ruins a menu for me. Once I spot it listed, everything else blurs into the background and I’m sold. Risotto tends to have that effect too.
The problem happens when they’re both on the menu…