Extra hard work on leg day today. I didn’t slack on any of the main lifts, though in the interest of time I opted out of leg curls and extensions. My back is a little tweaky, though on the opposite side of the old injury. Hopefully it’ll quiet down.
Squat – 2x5x185lb, 2x5x190lb
Deadlift – 2x5x215lb
Leg press – 3x10x300lb
Glute bridge – 3x10x115lb
There’s just a few weeks left to go until the wedding (AAAAAAHH) and I’m working on wrapping up the biggest loose end left: music. We picked a processional and recessional for the ceremony, we’ve got our first dance song (though it’s 7:30 long and we’d like it to be around 4– I spent last night hacking it up in Garageband, to mixed results) and today I asked my dad what song he’d picked for the father-daughter dance (which I never wanted to have but that’s beside the point now I guess).
So my dad has excellent taste in music– he raised me on a classic rock regimen of quality stuff like Queen, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Moody Blues– and some of my fondest memories with him were just hanging out listening to records. I was hoping he’d pick something really cool, since he was so excited about it! Instead he picked a song called I’ll Dance With Cinderella, and it’s Christian Contemporary pabulum/princess-daddy stuff. I’m disappointed.
I guess I’m mostly disappointed because the song doesn’t at all reflect the kind of relationship we have. I’m close to my dad, but not in a Daddy’s Little Princess way– I was more likely to be helping him fix a car, or keeping him company in the shop. He taught me how to be self-sufficient: before I could get my driver’s license, he made sure I could change the oil and rotate the tires. I know my way around power tools, too! Thanks to my dad, I can take care of myself, and he always encouraged me to get my hands dirty. So this princess-waiting-for-a-prince-but-practicing-with-daddy stuff really doesn’t resonate. Well, at least I probably won’t have to worry about losing it in a sentimental moment…
It probably reflects my dad’s increasing conservatism and embrace of what he thinks are traditional gender roles, too. I’m supposed to be a princess and he’s supposed to protect me until he hands me off to my prince. Blech.