Corporate Wifery

Workout:
55 minutes Total
warm-up: KB pattern X 3
Treadmill intervals: 4 running laps Range 8.5-10 min/mile at 4% grade, 8 walking laps at 8% incline. 35 minutes total
Jump rope 1 X 200
Pull-ups: 2
Pull-up Negatives: 8
Arm Curls: 1X15 each side w/20lb
Glute lifts: 1X30 w/10lb
Full Sit-ups: 1X30
Air Squats: 1X50

Today I got to play the smashing role of corporate wife. Basically, I'm hanging out with the wives of people that own businesses that utilize products from the company my husband works for. They are all loaded to the teeth. One couple makes so much money, you'd think they were printing it at home. I will try to paint this picture so that you can get a good laugh. Imagine 12-15 women, all somewhere between 40 and 60 (mostly 50's), and all staunchly conservative. They all have HUGE diamonds on their fingers and wear designer clothes and high heel shoes. Now imagine me in my California-esque jeggings and boots with a $10 top from target while I endure listening to the prosposterousness of Obamacare and how these attacks on high-income families are only destroying the country. Oy. Imagine Marek quaking in his seat wondering when his wife is going to stand up and start defending President Obama's social policies or say something grossly out of line with the theme of the conversation. Lucky for him, I avoid confrontation unless attacked personally, and lucky for me, nobody knew me well enough to attack me. While I was quietly tolerating a bash on my personal politics, I had a deep respect for the fact that all of these people were going to invest money into a company my husband worked for so that I could put gas in our new Subaru. I felt cheap and shallow not standing up for my beliefs, but I also knew that I was not educated enough to be able to defend Obamacare valiantly. While I do not think Obamacare is the answer and far from it, I can't help but be proud of a President who grabbed his cajones and did SOMETHING. If nothing else, it starts the conversation about the mess of healthcare and how it needs to be better. Everybody has to start somewhere. Nonetheless, I bit my tongue. My self-righteous tirades will have to wait until I can bury my opponents. Live to fight another day.
Today, the "wives" got to go on a tour of Georgetown. I'm thinking we'll be walking, it's going to be 80 degrees out, and we won't have access to our hotel for hours. Usually, I tend to be the less cultured one of the group and end up being the only one dressed like a survivalist ready to endure some urban catastrophe. Today was no different. When we got to the lobby, many of these women were dressed in silk blouses, skirts and heels with the latest fashion in sunglasses, perfect manicures and pedicures and...wait for it.....lipstick. Suddenly my tank top, capris and tennis shoes seemed more like I was going to play tennis rather than on a walking tour.  I also had a back pack. There I was, in a sea of Louis Vuitton, Prada, and Burberry bags, and my little red backpack seemed a touch, well, less than civilized. I was once again, the survivalist of the group.  I felt a little self-conscious but only for a moment. Let's face it. If hurricane Sandy hits today, I'm ready, and every one of these women is going to look to me for waterproof matches. Everyone in the group seemed so ....fragile.  Heels? On a walking tour? As if fate were giving me a leg up, we walked on uneven ground, around neighborhoods, and it even rained a little. I was glad I was not wearing heels or a see-through blouse, and I was quickly hailed to be more prepared than the rest of the group... until I pulled out my hoody sweatshirt, instead of my long, black, Banana Republic, leather overcoat. So uncouth.
It's painfully obvious that I do some sort of athletic endeavor. I have guns and a butt you can't deny. It's big, it's strong and if I had to break out into a run, my butt and my legs would carry me wherever I needed to go. Not just that, but I think I could defend myself physically if the need arose. I was glad to be wearing sensible shoes and a shirt that did not restrict my movement. I am pretty sure "fragile" is not the first thing that comes to mind evaluating my capabilities. "Fragile" is never the look I'm going for and for good reason. However, it's hard not to get sucked in to the skinny, fashion-conscious trends of being a woman. Traditionally, the "weaker' sex was tied up in corsets thus making "pretty" and "vulnerable" almost synonymous. Today's younger generations have found ways to be pretty, sporty, and badass all in one. I like this paradigm and I am choosing to embrace my larger features as a representation of strength and confidence. That, and none of these skinny bitches dare to tell me I got too much junk in my trunk. Clearly, I don't fit in with this group, but that's okay. I fit in to my own group and if anyone wants to join, I'm all about welcoming you to the club.
The great news is I got a killer workout in before breakfast. Intervals and some strength stuff. The hotel has a reasonable gym so I can get going on my program before next week hits and KJN Jonathan starts beating me into submission. Good times ahead. And more cool stuff is we are staying at a hotel called the Hay Adams. It is directly across the street from the White House. I can see snipers on the roof. Both the White House AND the Washington Monument are in our viewscape. I am suddenly overtaken by an irresistible urge to watch West Wing reruns. Until tomorrow......
Before bed:Wall Kicks: 2x100
Sit-ups 2x40
Push-ups: 2x15