On Midnight

It is nearly midnight.

As I wander about the house, preparing for a too-early morning, my legs wobble and nearly give out on me - but this is to be expected. Tomorrow, they will be worse. Much worse. But their reaction tonight does not surprise me at all.

I just spent two hours at the gym. Two hours where I achieved a few new things and set a few new goals for myself. About 650 calories burned in those two hours, and some weight training done that adds in even more for a person of my size, and tomorrow's IndoRow session at 5:30 AM will burn another 900 or so.

I weigh 384 lbs.

At some point, I forced myself to admit that the only way I was going to follow through with any form of weight loss - no, healthy lifestyle changes - was to commit financially in some small form. One $25/month gym membership and unlimited $10/class IndoRow sessions later, I am finding myself slowly setting and achieving goals. They're ones that would make other people roll their eyes.

Walk 10 minutes on a treadmill at 2.8 mph.

Cycle 20 minutes at 15.5 mph.

Do 100 shoulder lifts at 35 lbs.

Do 60 crunches with 32 lbs of weight.

But they're things that seemed impossible to me until I began pushing my limits.

The shower was hard. I snuck into the house with all the stealth of a drunken co-ed, thanks to my exhausted muscles. Unfortunately, they have yet to meet up with the adrenaline still pumping through my blood; my body is done but my mind is convinced I can go a little further if I just TRY. I stumbled around, tried to keep the noise down, and eventually showered. I left the main light off; thanks to the motion detector light in the bathroom, though, I was left waiving my arms around wildly every minute or so when it threatened to turn off and leave me shrouded in nothing but blackness with the comfort of hot water pouring onto me. I bathed, and as I was drying off I struggled: I'm hungry. Do I snack? No, I eat a gummy vitamin. Do I use the self-tanning lotion I bought? No.. Not tonight, it just isn't worth the hassle. I go through the next few hours in my head, trying to make sure everything is ready.

Alarm is set for 5 AM. Coffee is ready to be brewed. Clothes are ready. My brain, not so much. I'm one of those people that functions best on 8+ hours of sleep, so tonight's decision to go work out before tomorrow's vigorous rowing class was not made lightly.

(Okay, I lied, it took me like two minutes to decide to go.)

Unfortunately, I can tell that the walking pneumonia we all recently caught is sneaking up on me. Despite days of antibiotics and no longer being contagious, my lungs bubble again when I breathe. I sigh. And cough.  Figures.

Still. Everything is ready. Now, I sleep.