I Hate Strength Training

There. I admitted it. I hate strength training. I always thought I liked it, because I liked exercise. If I like exercise, how could I not like strength training? Well, I'll tell you how. It's boring.

I like the results for the most part. I'd like them even more if I didn't seem to be getting larger instead of smaller, but I know I'm doing something good for myself. I'm sure eventually it will all even out, and I'll look better. Well� eventually will get here if I stop eating so much, but you get the gist. I know strength training is good for me. I know it increases my metabolism, strengthens my bones, wards off osteoporosis, is one of the few things that helps curb cellulite a little bit, makes me a badass and puts some nice curves in my arms. Those are all great things, but it's still boring.

At first, it wasn't so bad. I hadn't done it a million times over. Now that I've done thousands of crunches and lunges and push-ups and leg lifts, it's mind numbing. I don't admire my new muscles or get excited about lifting more weight. I'm still doing the same thing over and over and over and over. I need a change, and I need it now, because I am not going to stick with this much longer when scrubbing tile around the base of the toilet seems more interesting than yet another pli� squat. Hell, laundry is more interesting, and everyone knows how much I hate laundry.

Besides the strength crap, I'm doing really well. I'm running farther and faster than ever before. I'm even adding hills to my route now, and I'm doing quite well with them. I wanted to run a 5K for the local community day, but John's band plays that afternoon. Leave it to them to play an afternoon gig the one day I'd like to do something. I'll run a race eventually. It just won't be that one. Never in my life did I think I'd run a race. It might only be a 5K, but that's 5K more than I've ever done. I can actually run a lot farther than that, and who knows? I might even entertain the thought of running a half marathon one day. I'm just going crazy with this running thing.

The mountain biking is still a challenge for me. I'm just downright scared half the time I'm riding. I'm scared to go over logs or down steep hills or under trees leaning over the path. I'm scared of getting bit by a deer tick and contracting Lyme disease despite the gallons of bug spray I use. I took Hammy with me last time I rode and except for going up most hills, he was right on my tail. I had to tell him to back off a few times for fear he might end up a part of my tail the next time I braked because I'm a chicken.

I'm taking him with me next time too. I like having a partner, and he gives me an excuse to take it a little easier. I'm sure he will surpass me in no time, but it's good for both of us. We could use the time together as well, and what kid can't use a little more activity? He pushes me to go again and again, so that's always a good thing. He'll get me out on the bike more often, and I might actually be able to go down a few hills or over a few logs by the time this race rolls around. God help me. I'm not going to walk the whole mountain biking leg!

We're going out again tomorrow for an hour and ten minutes as my training schedule says. That means if John and I go out tonight, I'll have to take it easy again. Last time I talked about not drinking, I really didn't drink. I stuck to soda water with lime all night long. The nice thing about soda and lime is a lot of people think I'm still drinking something with alcohol, so I don't get bothered to drink. Not that I can't tell them to shove it, but it's nice not to have to do that. It's been a long time since I drank. It just doesn't do good things for my training, so I've been staying away from it. I can't do as much and get tired a lot faster. It just doesn't seem worth it to me. Plus, it's expensive. We could always stand to save a few dollars.

If we really wanted to save money, we wouldn't go out at all. Babysitters cost a lot. Right now, we don't even have one for this evening, because John didn't bother to call anyone. He's the one that wanted to go out and asked me to go and told me he'd get a sitter. Now the day has arrived, and he's just calling people. That pisses me off, but I'm trying to keep my mouth shut, so I'm not my typical negative, bitchy self. That wouldn't be speaking his love language.

This whole love language business is hard. We tried to sit down last night and hammer out some guidelines for chores and spending family time and such, and we didn't get past listing two of John's known chores before an argument began. Again, I put the "I" language (I know you're all tired of hearing about that. Sorry.) to work but didn't get past the "I feel" part before he interrupted me and told me why I shouldn't feel the way I do. Grr! So I told him as calmly as possible that I didn't think it was a good time to work on that stuff and that I was going to take a bath.

Eventually he came into the bathroom and talked to me some more. I told him how hard I'm working on doing the right things and getting away from it when I know I'm going to do the wrong things. I told him how frustrating it is to use the proper communication and not have it work. He admitted he's having a hard time with this and that he would work harder to use better communication skills himself. Now that I'm done with the book, he's going to start on it this weekend. I think it will make a big difference.