week 3 day 2

yesterday was reckoning day! how much had come off in two weeks? well, the results were not too bad.  a little over 2 kg, 1.4%body fat, or 17 mm were lost. gone baby gone! yeah! i confess i had weighed myself, so i knew roughly how much weight i had lost, but i was anxious to see if it correlated to a drop in my body fat, especially as jc always says he doesn't care a bit about pounds. so when i got excited about the body fat, which i am just beginning to get my head around as an alternative measure of dieting success, he tells me that its really about the millimetres, and that the result was good. whatever, i was happy. of course, i already knew it was working because i felt like i had dropped a good amount of weight/body fat/millimetres. oh, i forgot to say that additionally, i put on 1 kg of lean muscle mass, so my resting metabolic rate has gone up, and therefore, theoretically i am burning more calories just doing nothing. oh to do nothing! i have forgotten what that feels like. jc is killing me! no, more like he is incapacitating me, i come away from the gym unable to function i am so exhausted.  today was my second day this week, and i had already started yesterday declaring there was nothing left in me to give. so today i somehow get through my weight training, i'm sure i was pathetic, and up we went to the bike to do cardio.   as we have done on other sessions, one minute of pedalling at 40rpms and then 5-6 intervals of 30 seconds up and 75 seconds down start. "ok, go!" declares jc, and i push to begin my first interval of the day. nnnnnnnope. nothing happening.  "come on" says jc, "you can at least break 60". head down i really push, but again, the rpm's stay the same, and nothing happens. nothing except as small voice inside my head going nfw. "push!" he cries, and the voice perks up, NFW, NFW, NFW. it just wasn't there, i was trying, but clearly, i had reached the limit of my ability to work, and the voice was letting me know it.  fortunately jc must have heard the silent tirade, and said, okay, 15 minutes at 50. relief! i look ahead, and there is james doing his workout,  literally killing himself in front of me, dumbbells flying everywhere. 'why can't i do that?' i ask myself. 'is it a male thing? am i just a wimp?'  i redouble my efforts to no effect, i can't get the rpm's above 42, and my cardio session is cut to 10 minutes.  i am done.  i crawl home, the voice speaks again, 'now get into bed and take a nap', and blissfully, i listen.