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I'm back on my Max-3's and Catalyst, and I have missed it soooooo much. All this time since August, I've been trying to take the cheap vitamins and iron supplements, but it's not the same -- it just isn't. For example, it is taking me longer to get my stride back in running. In July, I was kicking butt at the studio. Last Friday, I could barely keep up with MPT increasing the speed and elevation on the treadmill. I was able to do it, but when she wasn't looking, I was trying to catch my breath.
Angel was mad because I hadn't been to her studio since July, and as she was opening the door, I said to Ericka, "Hey! I got the menu from the Greek pizza place at the corner. We can order pizza and pick it up when we're done with our workout." Ericka was shaking her head at me, telling me not to mess with Angel, who, of course, immediately put on her game face and was her mean old self as usual. What's new anyway? She's always mad, or acts like it so we won't whine.
I made it worse for myself when I tried to converse with Ericka while we were jogging on the treadmill. Angel doesn't like me to talk. It makes her think the exercise isn't hard enough for me. So MPT went from setting the treadmill at 3.1 to 5-point-something, then she raised the elevation because she's insane. I don't remember much else, except by the time she was done with my obnoxious self, I wasn't talking at all. I was too busy trying to breathe, and I wasn't smirking anymore.
And I think that's how I lost 6 pounds since last time. She burned off my weight with her evil treadmill torture. Plus, I showed up Saturday, and she had a new ten-pound ball she couldn't wait for us to use.
Angel's on a warpath right now. She thinks she's Jillian Michaels, and she's out to melt the fat off of obese people everywhere, whether or not they allow her to. Except I caught her laughing because while she was stretching me, I complained that I asked her to build up my booty, and all that's been happening is that it has been getting even smaller. I wore my Baby Phat jeans last Friday, and they were size 16, and they were falling off my butt. I told her if she continued to fail me, I would have to get a butt transplant.
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