My 2 hours of exercise on Mondays are great. My skinny and white little arms may or may not be looking more toned than ever before . . . I think.
“Aren’t I looking super buff, honey?” I asked my husband just last week. “No, seriously,” I continued, “can’t you tell a big difference from before?”
He squinted his eyes. He looked at my arms thoughtfully. He walked around me to study a different angle. He opened his mouth to pronounce his verdict–
“You know what,” I added quickly, “don’t answer that question.”
I had to stop him before he said anything rash.
Regardless of how visible my musculature is or is not, I can’t count how many grunts have gone into the strengthening of each muscle fiber. It helps to make noise, it really does. My teacher laughs at me on a regular basis–or is it ‘laughs with me’?
See, I’m not sure if you can call the ‘evil cackle’ variety a participatory experience.
When I get done, I am beat. Beat, beat, beat. The harsh transition from sitting in an office from 9-5 to hustling for a woman who was a drill seargeant in another life always feels rather abrupt. My bottom gets very confused when making the switch from its life in a plush leather chair where it abides for 8 hours daily to a series of lunges that put the true meaning of ‘pain’ into its existence. It asks me many a time: “Is my true essence a comfy chair-shaped slump, or do you want me to actually work for my bread?” “Work for it!” I yell, “get smaller! Get firmer! I never want to hear you utter the word ‘slump’ again!”
That bottom needs to be talked to with authority–I find that backsides in general require a firm hand.
But I can get through the squats, and the lunges, and the sweating, because I know this is waiting for me when I get home at 7:45:
A husband. A husband who has dinner ready for me. Incidentally, that is the last of the second pot roast, defrosted and refried with some onions and bacon. I warned you we’d be eating that pot roast for eternity and an age. You may have thought I was exaggerating–if so, you thought wrong.
During my workout tonight I will derive extra strength from the fact that as soon as I walk in the door, I have a husband waiting who will make sure I have a bottle of water nearby to rehydrate as I collapse into my chair and say “I am sooooo tired!”
A husband who understands my need for a lot of rice, and piles it into a bowl for me with generous abandon.
A husband who . . .
“Hey! Put that camera down, and get over here! It’s time to eat! Hop to it!”
. . . who has a magnificent forearm. OK, that was the worst picture I have ever posted on this blog–but that forearm makes it worth every sorry pixel.
Happy Monday everyone!
View Comments (25)
Very cute post. LOVE your writing style. I bet your arms ARE looking more buff!
you guys are amazing. miss you guys terribly. a-dog, we should skype soon. when I saw this post on my facebook feed, I wasn't entirely sure what man was in the picture. lookin sharp man. sorry to lose you from the facial hair club, but you pull it off nicely.
Love it! (a great way for me to start my Monday is to read Jenna's blog.)
That is quite a fetching forearm!
Adam, lookin' good.
jenna, you are hiarious. and you made my administrative monday much better!
There needs to be a way that sitting in an office for a good part of your day can keep you in shape! I'm a dreamer...what can I say?
I need to get this bootie of mine back to the gym, now if only I could convince my hubby to have diner waiting. BAWahahahahahahaaha, like I said, I'm a dreamer.
I know, if I had more discipline I'd do exercises at my desk . . . I've done that on and off since I started working here (15 squats every hour on the hour, lunges while I microwave my coffee, etc.), but have failed to implement a permanent routine. Maybe I'll rally my strength and start that again this week.
Yes! Yes! do it!! YOU CAN DO IT!! Squat 'n Squeeze, Squat 'n Squeeze!!
I feel it's appropriate to share a cadence song here... It's what I think of every time I hear mention of a drill sargeant. I couldn't help myself. Umm- maybe try to sing in quitely to yourself in class today? :D
I don't know, but it's been said
Air force wings are made of lead
I don't know, but I've been told
Navy wings are made of gold
He-ey Ar-rmy
Ba-ack packing Ar-my
Put on your packs and follow me
I'm in the U.S. Navy
This post makes me miss you both!! Something about it, not sure what....but I notice Josh commented too, so whatever it is got him too...
Think about you often!
We miss you guys too! How is little Zoe doing? I wish we could meet her . . .
How sweet of your hubby! I don't remember when my husband last cooked for me....
backsides in general require a firm hand.
I snorted out loud when I read this last line! very very funny.
but in all seriousness, it's nice that your husband has dinner waiting for you when you get home. very lux!