Some of you long time readers may remember that I am broken. And by that I don't mean in the spiritual sense (though there is always that too :| ), but that my back sucks. If you are a current in-the-flesh friend, especially one with strong hands then you likely hear me bitch about my back, legs, butt and solicit your strength to alleviate the worst of the pain. Its been like this for a few years and you'd think that my Mom's multiple surgeries, the injections she gets in her spine for pain management or the fact that most of her conditions are genetic might push me into action to build up core muscles, drop extra weight and just make things better for my body. You might think that. But you'd be wrong if you did.
I started a rehab program today (for my back, you jerks - you're just gonna have to live with all that other stuff). Its a build up my core, drop that extra weight that sits in my 'here' and save myself from surgery or explosion (when I try to have kids) program.
What prompted this you might ask? Women's fastpitch. I want to return to women's fastpitch. I'm not asking for PWSA Tier I or anything. I realize that I have to ease back into that windmill with a hop. I know I've been away from competitive ball for a long time so I'm gonna be rusty. But man, watching Chelsea play last month may have moved me to tears because I miss that game so much. May have. So I want to play competitive ball next summer and I can't be a chubby, broken women to play it (well).
I enlisted the help of one of the Phys Ed profs at Redeemer to help me set some realistic goals, and to help with the know-how. 'Cause I really didn't know what I needed to do to build things up, pare things down, and tone things around. I got the help, the routine has been worked out. I'm getting a how to use scary machines review later this week and well, I'm doing it.
I figured if I blogged about it, it might bring up some accountability. So you have permission to ask me about it. Ask me how its going, where my struggles are, where the victories have come, etc. Oh, and even though I'm working out and such, you can still take me out for Big Macs, pizza, cheesy bread, and buffalo chicken fingers. Its ok. I promise.
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