Last night was my double duty exercise night - Team and yoga. It was very close; Bobby was barely in time. I waited in the driveway and we swapped baby for car as soon as he pulled up. (I don't do both if I have Katie at the gym care center. Yoga goes past her bedtime.) Mom came late for Team; she thought the class was at 6:30 or 7, rather than 6. She says she's not ready for yoga.
I brought my own mat for yoga, which I've only done once before. I've had the mat since middle school, but I've only used it a few times and always on carpet. Using it at the gym, I've noticed serious slippage issues, and last night it felt like I didn't have any padding between my hands and the floor at all. My hands hurt more than any of my muscles. I struggled with it the whole vinyasa portion of the class. The gym's mats are kind of gross, and they stretch, making it hard to hold any positions that are open (lunges, warrior anything, downward dog). So I'm hunting for a mat solution.
And to follow with the post's theme; the feud with my scale continues! I like to monitor a little during the week, and I know I can fluctuate a lot, but 7 different numbers in 10 minutes is excessive. I'm so frustrated with it, I might have to buy a new one after kicking it across the room. (I've resisted so far, because it's heavy. I want to break it, not my foot.)
This morning, my truck door would not stay open, and it bruised my arm closing on me while I was turning to get Kate. Either the truck door or my mat struggle has my wrist aching today. We're planning to go ride ATVs this weekend, so I really hope it's better by then. Of course, Bobby's throwing up today, so maybe that's out anyway. (Food sick, not plague sick, he thinks.)
The boss man is munching through a bag of cool ranch Doritos and making me HUNGRY and the two oranges and mug of tea I just inhaled did nothing. Grumble. Should I hold on 'til lunch or make some popcorn?
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