It’s funny that what started as a way to keep me from killing myself due to long office hours has become such an integral part of my daily routine. The longer I spend working out on a consistent basis, the worse I feel about skipping a day. Is that normal? Honestly I feel pretty great on days where I can pull it together enough to be awake and in my running shoes by 5:15am. Does this happen daily? God no. But I fucking try, and I can’t ask much more of myself in the mornings.
People seem curious about how this whole Chalean Extreme thing is going. So far, so good. I look leaner, my muscles have definitely toned up. I still don’t look like Kate Moss, but it’s fair to say that’s probably out of the question regardless of how much working out I do. I do need to up my equipment game, though.
This is a bunch of fitness related ‘wish I had’s off my Amazon wishlist, for those of you that are into encouraging good habits.
This is a thigh toner, and it’ll probably ruin my life for at least a week. After that, hopefully it lives up to its name. I swear I’ll try not to bitch too much about how tender my legs are via Twitter.
Another must-have is a set of resistance bands. I’m dying for a set of these for two reasons: one, they’re travel friendly for when I’m not at home and two, I don’t always feel like fucking around with a set of SportBlock weights at 4:30am. Give it a try and tell me you blame me.
The last thing I’m thinking about giving a try are supplements for managing my estrogen levels. I have an incredibly fit female friend that told me about these–she swears they help cut that last bit of belly flubber. Another friend told me he thinks my boobs will shrink, which is totally NOT an acceptable side effect for me. Thoughts? Help? I figure it’s worth a shot, if nothing else I’ll be tit-less for the summer.
I can see the difference in weight in weird places like around my collarbones and the shape of my quadriceps. With any luck I’ll be strutting around in one of these American Apparel slut-couture onesies with pride by the time I’m at Hell City Phoenix in August. (What, you think I want one and I won’t wear it in public? WRONG.)
