Thursday, March 19

  • 515-fried egg sandwich w/ cheeze, SB&J toast, coffee w/ CM
  • 845-half LB
  • 1015-hot cereal w/ raisins
  • 1115-half LB
  • (12p-Dustin session)
  • 130-carnitas, toast, apple
  • 530-LB
  • 630-salad w/ avocado, toast, carnitas

Sleep: 7.75 hours in bed, 915p-5a, 84% quality. Scampering Hanky awoke, otherwise I think I might have made it to 6.

Healthy Movement: Body feels quite good. Session was solid, although nothing super impressive; pulls were off-kilter in terms of coordination, but deadlifts were strong, yay! Did some SA chin work during class, but everything felt REALLY hard so didn't push it.

Also did a 225 trapbar deadlift during class, with no warm-up. Felt easy. Was then SO FUCKING TEMPTED to pick up the 255 but the mini-Dustin in my head warned it was a risk and asked whether it was worth it: I already deadlifted earlier, I did not properly warm up, I can feel the shoulder/arm a teensy bit, I am running fast roads Saturday morning, what will it get me if I do lift it vs what might it do to my back if I fail, etc. So I used ALL of my willpower for a solid 10 minutes to avoid it, until it turned into a 285 trapbar that was an obvious no.

Well, at the time I thought my PR was 265, so what's the point of picking up the 255 in case I anger something, right? But it turns out my trapbar PR is only 240, so holy shit I shoulda done it, because based on the 225 I totally would have. Stupid mini-Dustin. (Or smart. Probably smart. Dammit.)

Fun & Play: Coworker chitchat. FB silliness. Tiny doses of BK & BB. Session. Productivity. Class fun. Fetch time. Hubs time. Deer-watching time.

Stress Management: I swear to fuck. This fucking place. I can't even.

Well, fuck it: I won't.

I'm not.

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