Friday morning I got to the gym and found out that a substitute trainer would be running class at 6am. Ben's not actually a substitute, there are two trainers assigned to the class, he just rarely teaches. He's a hard core body builder, I'm pretty sure he's won some large competitions. He has a little contempt for our cardio-based classes and he's just not as into coddling as most of the other trainers. We're a corporate fitness center full of a bunch of scientist geeks and the like, trying to get ourselves into some sort of shape. We have a few real athletes- a marathoner that runs sub 3-hour marathons, some people that have been pretty successful in the fitness competition arena, but most of us are not destined to be high caliber athletes. We're just people trying to get in some exercise before work and maybe gain a little fitness. We like our trainers to be overly-enthusiastic and tell us often how great we're doing. And they do that. Except Ben. He ran class Friday morning and yesterday I woke up feeling like I was hit by a truck. This morning I woke and felt like someone backed the truck up and parked on me. We did multiple sets of push-ups, lunges and something incredibly challenging called "the Wheel". It was quite a workout. I only hope I'll be able to lift the weights tomorrow morning.
Despite a less than great workout week, the scale was rewarding this week. I'm now down below my pre-pregnancy weight by half a pound. The scale read 157.5 this morning, I was pretty happy with that. At this rate I could reasonably be down to 140 by July, I'm still thinking that 135 might be a little lower than I can get to, I'll have to evaluate again when I get closer. I know it's when, not if- I'll get there.