This isn’t pound cake we’re talking about. No this is the real McCoy and doing it one pound at a time.
Grandma is awake, alive and in pain after the first night of UFIT Bootcamp. I think the worst part is pushing muscle mass that has never been pushed before and then asking them for forgiveness the next day. There was this little wheel with two handles coming out both sides and you have to roll it out in front of you and bring it back while on your knees. I have to say this again, “push it forward as well as your body and then come back to the original position.” Ok, this looks easy, rolling away from you is no trouble at all, and just where do you think the strength comes from to bring yourself back? Not from this body, no sir – I was flat out on the floor, rolled right past the point of no return. When I look up here is Gordon telling everyone, “I made these they are great, aren’t they, you like that?”
Somewhere in the middle of the night I could hear my left shoulder blade talking to my right, it said something like, “we are going to gather all those homemade rollers up and drop them over the Hillsborough Bridge coming home on Friday after class.”
So here we are Thursday again, each time I’m going to say this until I get it right, I’m back on track for one pound at a time.
It was excruciating to step on the scale for more than one reason. We both know how much I love this digital talking scale. I lightly step, ha ha ha, how do you do that anyway – I lightly step on the scale and it yells, “one at a time.” You know what I said and it wasn’t nice and I shouldn’t repeat it.
Woohoo I’m down from weeks ago.
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