Sore, sore, sore

I missed working out on Friday -- Daniel went early and I had a busy day with the kids so I never got myself there alone. Yesterday we all woke up early enough that Mary could go to the "Kids' Fitness" class (she's been asking about it for a while, but usually our Saturday mornings are too lazy), so I actually made it to the gym. But when I realized I had more than an hour to kill waiting for her class to start and finish, I decided to take the Body Pump class that was going on at the same time. Ow, ow, ow! It's an hour of aerobic weight lifting, basically, though there are a lot of pauses in between songs for changing weights around, and I didn't feel like my heart rate got up very high. I did the class once before but I weighed over 30 pounds more so I had this crazy idea that I would be in better shape. And I think I did use slightly higher weights than the last time. I came out of the class feeling a bit tired and wobbly in my arms, but I felt pretty good. I didn't get hit by the pain until 12 hours later as Casino Knight was winding down -- I stood up after sitting still for a long while and my legs were a bit sore. This morning I could hardly move myself out of bed. My quads are terribly tight. My upper body is also somewhat sore, but not nearly as bad. Ugh. You'd think six months of frequent biking would have done me some good! Now I know I really ought to go to this class every Saturday, and I need to do more to strengthen and stretch my muscles in between. And I should probably do Pilates today to shake up my muscles some more, but I can't stand the thought of moving them yet.

My eating is about the same as always. I didn't eat much between meals yesterday or Friday (though after dinner on Friday I had some cheddar and a beer -- why is it that I can restrain myself all day, but I fall apart after dinner, when my stomach is generally full enough already?). Yesterday I had a very late breakfast (after the class!) and an extremely small lunch, just yogurt, with snacks of almonds (twice) and a banana and some pretzels. Dinner was "heavy hors d'ouevres" at the casino thing, which meant a small croissant-based sandwich involving cheese and some kind of meat, three pieces of gourmet toast with some creamy gourmet dip featuring a mystery vegetable (almost certainly extremely caloric, but very yummy), three small slices of cheese and two crackers, and about four baby carrots. And two glasses of wine. The mini-dinner was probably about 10,000 calories, although the carrots should have canceled about 8 of those out, right? Sigh. And when we got home we were wound up and munchy, so we ate some popcorn (the light kind) and a few more bites of cheddar. Oddly enough, my weight was down to 136 this morning, the lowest I've seen yet. If I eat well and exercise for two days, maybe I could see 135 by Tuesday? Not likely, though -- I already had two waffles and three pieces of bacon today, and I've already said I'm too sore to move. Phooey.

Funny story from our outing -- Daniel was the #8 winner for the night. Or maybe #7. Top ten, anyway. We played blackjack most of the night and kept thinking we were on the verge of going broke, and then we'd come back stronger -- I started with 20k in chips and left the table with about 40k (too bad it wasn't real money!). Then Daniel took our chips to the poker table -- this year there were some actual good games going, not a bunch of people who didn't know the rules and didn't understand bluffing -- and won two out of three hands before the tables closed for the night, walking away with $306,000 in chips! Then the announcer called him "Danny" when they gave him his winner's certificate, so he'll have that to live down for a few months!