becoming infinite

always learning. always growing. always lifting heavy things.

survival of the wednesday gauntlet.

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nothing says “hump day” like a tempo run.

also, nothing says “i think i may vomit on the treadmill/why do i like running again?/eff it i’m gonna be a professional couch potato” like a tempo run.

but i made it through with no upchuck (barely), and that’s another speedwork wednesday in the books. somehow it’s Week 4 of my training schedule already. not quite sure how that happened.

i’m moving my deadlift day from friday to tomorrow. friday i’m speaking on a panel at 9am, and it’s for prospective undergrads so i need to look put together. which means i need to be sure that i’m done with my workout by at least a quarter to eight so i can shower and make myself presentable and be on time.

so tomorrow’s deadlift day. my favorite day!

i pulled 185# on monday, one rep, a slight grinder. 200# by the end of the month. i want. so badly.

i’m back in physical therapy for all of the hip flexor/left back/left trap pain i’ve been having. i’m on a “no squats” regimen for the week – BOO. and we discovered that (a) my hips are structurally jacked up and uneven as hell; (b) all of that unilateral work i have been so diligently doing since surgery worked a bit too well – my pain isn’t from overcompensation by my good side, it’s due the fact that it is now my weaker side; (c) my hip flexibility has fallen to zilch.

but it’s okay, it’s not like i teach yoga or anything.

i have an easy 3-miler tomorrow, and i’m going to have to force my long run to happen on sunday when i get back from indiana. three hours in the car and then a 10-miler. sounds like a party to me.

one of these weekends…one of these weekends i will have my beer. just not this one.

 

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Author: jenn

impossible to define; indefinitely impossible. maybe i'll add more here later.

2 thoughts on “survival of the wednesday gauntlet.

  1. So my mom and I are in Wal-Mart, not thinking about how it’s a Saturday and a mad house, and there are no motorized carts. My brace from my accident doesn’t fit my left leg. I’m sans brace. I push that cart all over Wal-Mart and she walks off. I cannot find her. I am sweating, hurting, trying not to cry (or vomit in there… again). Eventually my meniscus is like, “F*ck this, we’re sitting down.” Needless to say perhaps, I *did* have a drink that night. Stupid knee.

    • wal-mart plus a bad knee is just…that’s a terrible combination. the fact that i didn’t drink every night the first few weeks after my surgery is a small miracle. that, and i was struggling to move enough already haha.

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