i hate hate HATE push-ups. they're my sworn enemy. they are THE non-scale victory. the one i'm dying to accomplish. i want to be able to do them military-style and one-handed and with my feet elevated (not necessarily all at once). i also want to be able to do, like, a hundred sit-ups with a 50 pound weight on my chest. and run five miles. and wear killer 5 inch heels.
but it's mostly the push-ups.
last night i did 22 girl-style push-ups. and then 36 unassisted sit-ups. and half an hour on the bike. and my homework (er, half of it). i hope that having set my alarm to work out 4 days a week until mid-august keeps me on track. this class is kicking my ass from here to... somewhere else. far away. i'm exhausted EVERY DAY, drinking two or three coffees (hey! it's good for you now! prevents/slows/reverses alzheimer's! which i have a family history of! it's never too soon to moisturize or drink coffee, i always say!) but i'm not letting my eating fall of track. that would only make things worse.
this is a crazy weekend. tonight, i have to finish my homework, clean my kitchen & bathroom and grocery shop. then tomorrow i have brunch with a friend (i'm giving her tons of my too-big clothes) and a meeting for an event i'm volunteering for. sunday is am harry potter and pm inlaw dinner. and then? it's fucking monday again.
but this weekend? i will not. fuck. up.