As of about a week ago I’d been hitting the gym pretty hard most days and had gained some serious cred with the trainers (and some muscle definition in my arms). I was eating well, feeling good and looking better.
Then I went to Michigan. I swear, just thinking of going to Michigan will add five pounds to a person. Actually going there? Ten, easy. Maybe it’s because the body understands the basic concept of insulation and how it relates to negative temperatures and, well, living. Or maybe it’s because most of the meals were either beer and deep-dish pizza or beer and Zingerman’s. Nah, that couldn’t possibly be it. And spending three days cooped up in a car? That does great things for a human body, lemme tell ya.
So today I finally got back to the gym for the first time in almost a week and a half. Man, it was great. (Have I ever mentioned that I love my gym? Tell me if you’ve heard this before.) I jumped right in and started back where I was before I left. No easing back into it for me, nope. The trainers were behind this idea 100% and made sure that I didn’t start slacking off. Lifting the weights, punching the bag, push-ups, core core core, lunges, squats, more core.
It was so good to get back to it. If I didn’t have a concert to attend with my newly transplanted friends tomorrow night I’d probably be at the gym again. Aaaahh…gym. A good way to maintain my wine-drinking, cheese-eating ways.