Out Of The Norm

My stomach was awake before me.  I awoke to grumbling and lots of it.  I was hungry.  I was also toasty and snug as a bug in a rug. The air in the room was chilly, the warmth of my blankets kept me in bed while hunger pleaded for me to rise.  Warmth won. It was only 6 a.m.  I didn’t have to be out of bed for another 45 minutes.  So I laid there and planned in my head what I would eat for the day while listening to the sounds in my home. 

The Mr. was in the kitchen cooking.  I got a whiff of fried eggs and toast.  The aroma started drifting in, seducing me from bed.  I ducked my head under the covers, I wasn’t ready yet. Involuntary stretches erupted from my body.  I had slept hard and I was still sore from Tuesday night’s boot camp.  That  meant I needed more boot camp. Triceps and armpits were killing me.  Is it possible to sprain an armpit?

I demoted myself from vegan to vegetarian, constantly switching between the two.  When I finally poured myself from bed, I inhaled two boiled eggs and Morning Star veggie sausages and drank a sea of water.  I ate veggies for a snack and a black bean burger and green beans for lunch.  An hour after lunch I was still hungry.  My appetite was ferocious!  I texted Briant about how hungry I was.  He texted right back: What the heck…EAT LUNCH AGAIN!!!!  I knew that. I had not been on top of my running program because I had been punked by the cold, this new hunger was out of the norm.  Briant always tells us not to go hungry.  If you’re hungry eat, but eat the right stuff.  By the time 5pm rolled around the hunger had been replaced with fatigue. I was exhausted for no obvious reason.  I went to spin class anyway.

With her orange tie dyed socks pulled up to her knees and scarf wrapped around her neck, Diane was ready.  She was bouncing around in the best mood.  Somehow, I had lost a spin glove.  I don’t like spinning without my gloves but it was too late to do anything about it.  So I’m on my bike channeling Michael Jackson with my one glove.  The handle bars were slippery without gloves. Ava and 32 were missing. I had grown accustomed to looking for them.  Diane started with sprints and stayed on sprints through the first 3 songs.  I was struggling.  My get-up-and-go had got-up-and-went.  I was sweating like crazy but it didn’t feel like I was really doing anything other than gasping.  It took me longer than normal to recover after sprinting, I had no idea what was going on with my body.  Nothing about this day had been normal.  Diane stops at my bike.  She looks me up and down.  I was a hot sweaty mess.  Then she said ever so casually, “Hmm… you look like you just started.” Ah, she’s a funny girl with lots of jokes.  She asked me to sprint it out for a 20 count.  That caught me by surprise, the count is usually 10 or 15.  She was just showing out, but I gave her what she asked for as fast my legs could. I was exhausted but too stubborn to back down.  

I can normally gauge the time by my shirt.  When the sweat is half past the breast line it means the class is almost over.  Today my shirt was soaked from the collar to the navel.  I looked over to my left at Missy with pleading eyes.  She looked at her watch without me asking and said we had to be on the last song, it was 6:28pm.  Thank God! After class Diane came over and told me she was very proud, she saw I was really working.  I told her how I struggled.  Her advice was to keep it up, days like this come with the territory.

Until next time….

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are… Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect Tomorrow. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in my pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.
– Mary Jean Iron

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s