If sweat is your fat crying, my fat threw a hissy fit today.
The heat has finally arrived. And my perspiration is right behind it. One of the greatest things is to get my water bottle when we’re done. Water tastes better after a workout — like sleep after a long run.
This morning, the ever eager Line 4 did the weight room, jumped rope and did footwork while holding a medicine ball, enjoyed Clark’s Coreapalooza and then did ladder drills combined with 40-yard sprints. And then everyone did a special core encore at the very end. We got in plank position (as uncomfortable as it sounds) and had to hold it as long as we could. When we hit our knees, we ran the track. I wasn’t the first up. But I wasn’t the last — that was Larry (Retired Spiderman). I think he’s still in plank position.
(P.S. if you have dead skin on your elbows, you’ll love plank position).
I won’t win the PLS Olympics or even the Laff Olympics with my core fitness, but I can tell you this — I’ve come a long way from the first session when I weighed 248. I’d die when we got to Clark’s station. Now I can survive it.
I have fifteen-minute abs.
My fat’s crying about that to. My fat’s a big blubbering baby.