I broke the Internet with a picture of breakfast I had cooked and then both Coach Bogs and my masseuse, Rej, broke me.
I don't cook, nor do I really need to cook now that I've discovered the wonderful world of food delivery services, like Yummy Diet. Yummy Diet sends me food every day, well minus the weekends, but on weekends I tend to eat lighter, Skittles' cooks, and then there's the Sunday Legazpi Market. This week has been a holiday so Yummy Diet, like many other businesses, haven't been doing business and have instead taken the whole week off and not just the three specific holiday days. This means I'm out of luck. I still have food stored in my freezer from Yummy Diet and when I was sick but they were still sending me food but I'm kind of picky when it comes to breakfast. I can't eat meat and rice for breakfast. That's just not breakfast foods. I need eggs or French toast; foods that are very "breakfasty", if that's even such a word. Today I decided that I was going to cook breakfast. I don't exactly have groceries though but I do always have whey protein and fresh fruit on hand, like apples, bananas, mangoes, and oranges. Turns out I also had eggs, perfect. Made a batch of three ingredient pancakes -- eggs, banana and whey protein shake. And you know what, they were actually really delish. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I'll definitely be making these again, 100% for sure!
After breakfast and priding around my plate of pancakes, I then headed off to boxing.
Today I had boxing.
And that's where the attempt to break me started...
First it was Coach Bogs with six rounds of sparring in the morning that sent me crashing to the ring floor twice -- one for a body shot to my solar plexus and another body shot to my liver. Two brutal blows taken, one that was super painful and one that was super scary. The shot to my solar plexus was definitely incredibly painful but it was the second body shot that got me that was the scariest punch I've ever taken. I crashed to the ring floor and couldn't breath, couldn't move and couldn't do anything but try to compose myself as my eyes filled with tears. I managed to get up and finished the round, finished the sparring, but man was that scary.
Walking out of the ring and moving on to do heavy bag work, the pain was gone but the memory of those two punches definitely stayed fresh on my brain.
In the evening I headed off to get a massage; it's both a necessity and perk of being an athlete. No one questions that you get them and now that I live here in the Philippines I can finally afford them. When I went in earlier to set up my appointment I had noted to the receptionist that I wanted the same masseuse that I had had a few appointments ago. They always ask me what kind of pressure I want and I always tell him to go hard. I want them to work out my kinks from training and to loosen up my muscles. A few appointments ago I had this one masseuse that took it to a whole other level. A level that even I was left counting to ten because ten seconds of her really grinding away at all those sensitive pressure points was all I could handle if she didn't move on to the next. I remember her have very firm hands and being extremely strong for her small size. I wanted her again. Tonight I got her and tonight I found myself counting to ten several times when the pain of her kneading away at my back and back of calves got so intense.
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