Friday: 5k.
Saturday: long ride.
Sunday: Soccer and Insanity.
Monday: another longish ride and Insanity.
Tonight: Insanity and a run. Unless I die first. Then maybe just Insanity.

The 5k was great: crowded, raining and the hubs and I got into a spat. I finished in 34:14, which was pretty excellent for my third post-op run. Actually, faster than my first 5k. The last little sprint was probably one of my best closing pushes.

The ride on Saturday was great, too. My car is in the shop and D had a surgery (random!), so I put on my boots and half chaps, grabbed my helmet bag and some drinks, and walked the .87 mile to the barn. I had to feed, so I gave Archie a handful of grain, fed the other two, and started to tack up. He wasn't the happiest kid, but damn if he weren't a good boy. He really likes his new saddle and moved forward quite nicely. He staired at the random mattress outside the fence line, walked out to the road, and even willingly body-slammed another horse trying to escape.  Then I fed him, cleaned up around the barn, and tossed hay to everyone. And I meandered on back home, stopping at the local dock. I'm a photography whore, so there will be photos. It was a pleasant way to spend a Saturday morning.

Sunday involved lounging about with my hubby, watching old episodes of Supernatural.  I had to feed again that morning, so I got up at the butt crack of dawn, given the time change, fed, and crawled back into bed.  The girls even let me.  Then came the soccer game.

I played soccer in middle school on a coed team.  The biggest directive that I received was to be more aggressive.  Generally, that's not something that I think I have a problem with.  If anything, I've been told to be less of a bully - both physically and emotionally.  Whoops.  Anyways, so I'm playing soccer for the first time in a million years and, as good as I thought I was kicking a ball with my husband, I suck.  Not a lot - I'm still going to chase the ball, when I'm not staring dazedly at everything going on around me.  But our game on Sunday was cancelled because the other team was a no-show.  So a few players went and jumped in on another game and the rest of the team devoted the next hour to teaching me how to properly kick a soccer ball.  I have no aim.  I have no power.  I'd never done a "kick with my laces."  I got okay, but it was decided that inside foot was my power kick and that I'd probably never be in the position to kick a goal.

We'll see.  :)

And then the Man and I decided that we really ought to do the Insanity workout that we'd skipped from the day before.  So we dragged through that (Month 2, end of Week 3, in case you were wondering).

Yesterday, I slogged through work.  Fucking time change.  And went home, rode my horse (WONDERFUL!), picked up the hubs and, at eight o'clock, did an hour of Insanity.  I was too barfy to eat dinner, so that was definitely skipped.

And now we're on to today.  Cardio insanity.  Whee.

More like: A Jogger.

I can't remember exactly when it started. Octoberish? Well, really it started a few years ago, when I was in college. As a requirement for graduation, I had to take a wellness course. I put it off until one summer, when I decided to take Wellness - Jogging. The class met every night, Monday through Friday, for five weeks.

After moving my body in that sweltering heat - Georgia in the summer, mind you - I was able to take my mile from 11 minutes to just over 9.

So, back in October whenever, I had the urge to start running again. I've had little bursts of running urges periodically since college, but this is the first time I've actually determined to keep up with it. Care about the pace and distance and form. The shoes on my feet, my body's reaction, the heart beats per mile.

I did my first 5k in December. It was Savannah's epic Bridge Run. It was a pretty nice run: a decent incline, a decent descent, and a cold beer afterwards. My time was about 34:40. Something like that.

I did my second race in February. This one was a bigger pain in the ass, less organized, and I had to spend more time training. It had no inclines, as the bridge is really the only sizeable hill we've got, but twice the length. For training, I slowly brought myself from three or four miles to eight. I could comfortably do eight miles in about an hour and a half. Not breaking any records, but damn. Eight miles is pretty fucking long when you're taking it step by step by step. I finished the Critz Tybee Run in 1:09.

Tonight, I'm doing my third race. It's just another 5k. And completely flat. It'll take me through historic downtown Savannah and I'll get to see, at my 11 minute mile pace, more of the city than I ever have. I get another notch in my running shoes and the March of Dimes gets some donations.

This photo is from the Tybee run. I'm not the prettiest when it comes to exercise. :)

Oh! And the hubs and I standing where we got married - race was that close to it.

Also known as: the time I was intentionally stabbed and quickly recovered due to my obsession with exercising.

So, a couple months ago big D made the decision that he wanted to be a little less big and quickly started losing weight. And then he decided that skinny wasn't really what he wanted to be, and decided that he wanted muscles, too.

Being the ever loving and supportive wife, I stood by my hubby's decision to subject our minds and bodies to a tireless campaign to beef up. And, being the absolutely neurotic man that he is, he researched the fuck out of things we could do without leaving the comfort of our own home. God forbid we use that gym membership, amirite?

And he discovered Shaun T and Insanity And I discovered that we could sweat together.

Fast forward six weeks. I have muscles. My runner's legs are more toned than miles have ever made them. I have biceps and the hinting of triceps. And, beneath my layer of blubber, I can feel ab muscles.

And then I need surgery.

It wasn't a giant surprise. Just a brief laparoscopic procedure to determine why I hurt. But here's the kicker: multiple friends have had the same procedure and were no where near my superhuman recovery. Less than a week after getting stabbed in three places and having a camera shoved in my belly button, I was back to insanity. Nine days, I'm riding my horse. Less than two weeks, running again. And at the two week, two day point, I'll be doing another 5k.

I credit this quick recovery to the phenomenal shape that Insanity gave me. Or, rather, the shape that Shaun T's screaming encouraged me to attain.

Here are some photos. I'll probably repeat some when I write more about the actual surgery.

Oh, might be graphic!