Bob’s Workout Plan, Day 10
It’s day 10! Strange that it actually feels like it’s getting close to the end. Today is the last day for the full Cardio routine under Bob’s 4-week plan (since we started on week 3), but I know that I’ll continue with it as a regular part of my routine. I just enjoy it too much. Which is weird, considering how absolutely painful it still can be.
A bit slow again today. Lady Aravan gets on the scale this morning, which isn’t a weigh-in day. I mention something, and she says it’s weigh-in day. It is up to me to provide the cruel, painful news that it isn’t Friday. “Noooooo,” she half-screams, and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Nothing worse than waking up and thinking it’s Friday when it ain’t. The news that she is down a pound so far is no consolation for the rug being pulled out from under her.
The workout is, of course, hard. I decide to go to the 15-pounders, because secretly I loathe my arms and want them to snap off and fly across the room while I grimly swing that dumbbell over and over and over again. “Just a few more swings,” Bob says. Heh. Yeah. On that arm, maybe. The fifteens prove too much though, about 15 minutes in. My ass and thighs are on fire from all the squatting, and using my hips to propel just that slightly heavier weight is too much. On the plus side, I am sweating like a self-employed man during an IRS audit. Lady Aravan is sweating big-time too, and finishes her water in record time. Today is the first day that she f-bombs Bob periodically through the workout, one of our favorite ways to dig deep.
I endure the jumping jacks by imagining Roxie in her boxing stance taking issue with Becky for her assertion that she’s not feeling it in her legs. Punch, punch, punch, punch. I notice that after Becky says that, Zach makes some kind of noise of disbelief. He ain’t the only one, and I’ve seen her do it a lot.
We make it through, but it’s tough. Lady Aravan tells me that my work stress is affecting my performance, and she’s right. I try hard not to let it affect me, but it’s hard. I try to hold on to the fact that I have such an amazing wife, three fantastic dogs, and a great life outside of my office building. I don’t want to be Mr. Grumpypants.
Tomorrow is strength, and the idea of performing t-stands makes my shoulders want to secede from my union and go Confederate. They’ll be all right, though. As Bob says, “it’s just an hour,” with his smirking dismissal. I get the feeling that soon I’ll be f-bombing him too, but I know he’ll just respond with his evil little chuckle.