So this morning I hopped on my trainer for a little ride. No big deal, right? Ohhhh no, there was so much drama going on in my basement this morning. Blame it all on the new heart rate zones I'm using. Ugh (in a good and bad way. Good - hopefully I will get faster. Bad - it takes alot of work to hit the prescribed zones sometimes. Today was one of those times). The last bit of the workout called for some Zone 4 effort and I Could. Not. Get. Into. Zone. 4. I was standing up on my bike, I was sprinting, I was huffing and puffing. Until it finally happened. And with each pedal stroke, I was getting more and more angry. I had this overwhelming urge to shriek, get off my trainer, and throw my bike across the room. It was the same frustrated feeling that I would have as a kid and my little brother would do something that would totally send me over the edge or I would be sent to my room as punishment and there was nothing else I could do but shriek at the top of my lungs at the injustice of it all (yes my parents were saints for putting up with me). However, unlike my tween-aged self, I didn't scream or throw my bike across the room. I gritted my teeth, pedaled harder, and eventually got my HR to where it was supposed to be, and finished the workout, both me and my bike in one piece.
Last night I got to spend time with some of my favorite people - my Aunt Amy, her two cute kids Lilly and Xander, and my cousin Charlotte. I don't get to see Charlotte nearly enough and it was a treat to have dinner with her (and Amy) last night and get caught up on each others' lives.