Day 14ish

I am really confused about what day we’re on here.. Last time I posted it was Day 13, and that was yesterday, so today would have to be Day 14 of the fitness experiment… That I know for sure. Here’s where it gets tricky- My first workout was on a Saturday, so at some point I miscounted and added a day or two. I am not sure how that happened. Would you believe I have a masters degree?

Whatever day today is, lets call it Day 14ish, the alarm went off at 6am. It was still mostly dark out. I got up to turn the alarm off. Not to press snooze but to give up on working out altogether because I was too tired. But when I came back to bed after mumbling something about the fatigue, I was greeted by Dan’s body sprawled diagonally across the bed, with most of it on my side. What!? He urged me to just be out of bed for five minutes, at which point, he would move over and let me have part of the bed if I chose to go back to sleep. I responded by telling him some things that aren’t appropriate for this G-rated blog. He remained steadfast in his position, however (both literally and figuratively).

His evil plot went exactly to plan, as I ultimately got up and did my workout. After pumping 5.5 ounces (sweet!) I biked on the trainer for 40 minutes, mostly easy, with some single leg drills, and a few intervals of 30 seconds hard in the big ring/30 seconds recovery. I hoped to do 45 minutes on the trainer and some core, but at the 40 minute mark, Dan called down to the basement to let me know Sweet Pea was hungry and he had already given her the milk that was in the fridge. I wrapped up  the workout and came up the stairs to find the baby propped up on a few pillows, sitting on the couch, while Dan read aloud to her from a financial blog in an animated tone of voice. I caught something about volatile Chinese markets, which I don’t even pretend to understand.

When reading to Sweet Pea, I generally stick to stories like “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” “Goodnight Moon,” or other material that is generally considered age appropriate for an infant. But then again, I’ve already established I can’t even count that good. Who am I to judge?

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