Olympic-itis

That was my explanation for being so beat today — the damn Olympics. I mean, how can I go to sleep during the gymnastic finals? Every night there’s something you have to watch.

My husband had a much more scientific explanation to combat my fake syndrome. Reluctantly, I’ll admit I was no fitness demon today.

Fitness demon! Yes, I was actually called that once. Whether it was a compliment or insult, who cares?

So I rode my bike slowly and didn’t even get fiercely competitive when people passed me. Later, I tried some kettlebells. And then, I remembered how the Spartan Race people mentioned the flex arm hang today and how Marines do that. Yes, I know this! I’m a Marine! And that was one thing I rocked at during the PT tests. The running – I’d settle for barely passing with these little legs, but flex arm hang — yessiree bob!

In boot camp, we maxed out at 70 seconds, which is pretty damn brutal when your arms are shaking. Spartan peeps suggested five rounds of 40 seconds with 25 seconds of rest, if I read correctly (probably not).

Result – it hurts. 25 seconds is not long enough to recover. And a couple of them, I didn’t make the 40 seconds. Don’t tell!

I’ve gotta go. The Olympics are on.

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