While I managed to stay within my calorie range yesterday, I'm not exactly proud of what I ate. It was yummy, though. There was a lot of cheese. It was a very cheese-filled day. Mozzarella cheese and Irish cheese and cheesecake.
But, you know, one day in a stretch of being very, very good isn't so bad. Plus, I weighed myself this morning and my weight is still the same so the cheese hasn't caught up with me yet. I'm starting to think that I'm moving so much with my swimming and my weights and my sometimes yoga and pilates, that a bad day here and there isn't going to kill me. And it wasn't SO bad. Like I said, I stayed within my range.
In other news, I swam 80 laps on Saturday instead of the 100 that I was planning to swim. About 50 laps in this gaggle of teenagers descended on the pool. There must have been 30 of them. They all got into the diving pool and cheered each person on who went off the board by chanting his or her name incessantly. And this one girl let out a BLOOD-CURDLING scream every single time someone dove in. Or came near her. Or breathed.
This is another reason indoor pools suck. The echoing and reverberation was intense. So I swam a little more in my set, did a cool down 200 and huffily left. The lifeguard gave me a desperately sad look as I walked out, silently pleading with me to take her with me.
This is another tick in the "pro" list for joining a gym after the pool closes on the 24th. No teenagers.
And yes, I realize I'm a crotchety old lady.
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As part of my university tuition, I have a membership to the college's brand spankin' new recreation center, complete with state-of-the-art weight and cardio machines, indoor raquetball courts and a pool with a spa and wading river. Yes, it was a ridiculous amount of money they spent on this center.
Anyway - I'd rather go to my company's gym, which is slightly larger than my living room and which I pay $2 a week for, all because it doesn't have scantily clad college coeds all looking for a date in a meat market.
I'm a crochety old lady, too.
I'm a cranky old lady, too. I get peeved at everything when I'm working out. People driving by too fast (or too slow...that just creepy) while I'm running. The water joggers who decide that they need a whole lane to themselves when I used to swim...and my biggest per peeve? Guys who can't rack their weights at the gym...if you can bench press 300 pounds that fabu, but could you put away the series of 45 pounds weights you used? Could ya? Huh?
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