Workout: 3.0-mile “run” on the treadmill (run 0.75 mile/walk 0.25 – repeat 3 times)
The truth hurts. It does. And sometimes right in the gut.
Hot chocolate from the gas station isn’t always a wise idea, no matter how good you think it will taste.
The idea of purchasing scented deodorant, while perusing Target, might seem innocent enough but come application, your pregnant nose will hate you – all. day. long.
A small piece of a blueberry-blackberry tart is entirely appropriate morning fare because it is, well, fruit. Sort of like toast and jam … except not.
In a matter of a week or two, running has gone from OK to sort of craptastic, even with the intervals. A bit disappointing even though I accomplished my goal of going out during the third trimester. I’m sort of hoping I can suck it up till 30 weeks.
If this kid does not stop kicking me, I am going to boot him across the room come delivery day. I swear he is going to be a certified Tae Bo instructor by the time he makes debut.
And while many pregnant ladies revel in all the movement, I find it sort of creepy to watch my stomach move as I lay in the tub. (Yes, taking a bath is one of many pregnancy rules I break.)
I am a wimp. I ran in sleet, snow, rain, ice last year. Today it was in the 40s and windy so I hauled it to the gym so I could run on the treadmill. Well for that reason and so I could go sans Denali and Mark (who has a personal day today).
I was too
cranky busy this morning to pack my lunch and I’m now pondering which dining establishment will receive part of my grandma’s birthday money. The hospital cafeteria, which always has mac and cheese? The co-op? Or how ’bout the place with the famous grilled cheese? I just don’t know. Only the shadow does.
What’s your truth for the day?