Squeeze the Fat

Mondays are a trip.  And by trip I mean they can often be the slap in the face immediately following a knee to the crotch.  
Honestly, I could put my head on the table and be out cold in about 30 seconds.  It was an exhausting day to say the least, and I truly thought that after yesterday's nap and early bedtime, I'd feel like a million bucks today.  Not so much.  I was that dirty, crusted nickel you find in your pocket that's been smothered in a combination of gum, comet, and fungus.  It was all I could do to keep my eyes open until it was time to workout...

Garrett took my bodyfat this morning.  We use the 3-pinch caliper method, and he seemed to grab my thigh fat like his life depended on it.  I'm pretty sure I have a bruise.  Before today, I had not taken my fat in quite awhile simply because my weight/measurements stay pretty much the same outside of when I'm competing.  However, I'm having some fitness photos done pretty soon, so I wanted to sort of know where I stand.  Given that I still have a cheat meal and some wine here and there if I want it, I was fine with 13.5-14%.  By the time I have the pictures done, I'd like to see 12.5ish, but if my sanity starts to go out the window then I'm fine with 14. 
Its funny how women often correlate weight gain with fat, but I'm the same bodyfat now, at 129lbs, that I was at 110lbs a few years ago.  Its not about the weight.  Its what kind of weight it is that matters.  That's why BMI is a poor measurement.  Athletic folks will always throw the numbers off.  (Here's a little body-fat guide for women: 33+ = obese, 27-29 = average, 21-24 = "fitness" range, 17-20 = athletic/lean, below 16 = very lean athlete)

Workout today was a struggle, but went ok.  I hit chest, biceps, and cardio.  My hamstrings are still killing me from last week's workout, so I tapped out at 13.5 incline on cardio.  Everything was pulling, and at one point I wanted my mom.  Not that she could do anything about it, but for whatever reason when things get hard sometimes you just need the madre.  Instead of picturing her being all nice about it and providing positive, encouraging words to get me through, I'd like to think she'd be all bad-ass about it and say something to the effect of "I went through labor with your massive forehead,...I'm pretty sure you can get through 45 minutes of cardio you pansy."  That would probably make my day.  Freak me out, yes, but totally make my day.
For those of you who know my mom, she would never say that....but don't kill my dream...

Ok, its way past my bedtime.  I am done for the day, and need more than beauty rest tonight.  I need to hibernate until June....