I might die

She types, moving one finger at a time, trying somehow to type without moving. . .Alas, movement is inevitable, yet pain filled. . .

Exercise Rule #4: Thou shalt not tell thy trainer it is time to "step it up."

My trainer, Lady of Death, tried to kill me yesterday. She offered promises of buns of steel, a shapely waist, skinny clothes, and cruises clad in swimsuits. I, however, was not misled. While completing lunges of acrobatic type and enough squats to kill a frog, I mentioned her hedonistic personality that had suddenly emerged. She laughed and muttered something about "10 more."

I would hunt her down and hurt her today, but it's almost time to take more ibuprofen. I am also busy trying to take back every bad thing I said about movie stars. They earn every penny they're paid. It's tough work being skinny, and I'm not even there yet! Quick, someone find me a stunt double before next week!

Don't forget to sign up for my goodybag giveaway! You can enter by leaving a comment on this post or the previous post. Drawing will be August 28 @ noonish CST.

observations and revelations from exercising: week 4

I have five steps going into my house. Five. I've wondered if I could fall up the first one and land in my house, but I've been to tired to try it.

Those candy bars, cheesecakes, ice cream sundaes, and assorted junk I ate to get his fat? The secret ingredient is glue. Four weeks and not a pound has left these thighs. It's enough to make you want a cheesecake.

Exercise gear is SO cute. . .if you don't need it!

Cost thus far: $140 for shoes (don't tell Kev!), $5.00 for pedometer, $20.00 for sports bras (the first one was too little, but I was too embarrassed to return it.)

Pay off thus far: slightly clearer skin. That's it. Sssooo worth it, right?

Realizations of the Day

Health is something you take for granted until you lose it.

AND

Anatomy class is best taken after a strenuous workout, so that you can feel EACH AND EVERY muscle you are learning.

AND

Just because you used to be in shape doesn't mean you're not a lard-butt now. : )

Delusion has left the building. . .

and reality is alive and well. There is no freakin' way I can run a 5k! What was I thinking? I'm pretty sure my heart stopped today. Why shouldn't it? My entire body needed a break at that time. . .Holy crap.

they're trying to kill me

So, you know, I've been trying this whole "exercising" thing, right? Yeah. I think it might kill me. I'm up to jogging the distance to the fridge and walking the rest. Actually, that's not exactly true. You guys are right. I have a long ways to go, but I have been impressed with what my body has done.

My sister-in-law (the one that wears single digit size clothes) is great. She's very low key, typically. She doesn't talk much. She's very quiet. I should have known I was in trouble when she was PUMPED about my idea to run a 5k. She's going to design a training regimen for me. . .Never mind that I told her and my brother that I had one. . .I'm quite sure she is unfamiliar with the level of laziness and out-of-shapeness that awaits her efforts. Not to sound paranoid or anything, but do you think this could be some elaborate plan to kill me? If so, I can think of much less painful ways to die.

what have I gotten myself into now?

Apparently, it's not safe for this adult to drive three hours in a car with two young children without another adult present. It had been a long week. A reeaaalllyyy long week. We were late heading out. I spent three hours in the car. The kids were tired and fussy. (You know this is going to be bad, don't you?)

My boss and I had discussed the local "boot camp" class that was beginning soon. We weren't going to be attending, but we had discussed it. Somewhere along mile 80 or 90, I decided that I really needed to lose the weight. Folks, we're talking a lot of weight. Somewhere along the Highway of Delusion, I decided what I really needed was a goal--a fun, difficult goal that I would be proud of. . .so I decided to enter a 5k in June. (I warned you.)

Afraid that I would want to back out tomorrow (proof that there was some rational thought. . .), I called my boss. She said it would be great, but she would be at Disney World that week in June. (I know--likely story. . .) I called my teacher friend. She told me I was delusional and nuts. She said she might attempt the one mile run. . .but she would have to think about it. I then called my 6 foot tall, 80 pound sister-in-law, who used to routinely run those things. SHE'S PUMPED. She can't wait to begin "our" training. It seems she's not really been training since having the baby. . .She knows I can do this. (Proof that she's delusional as well.)

Kevin, to his credit, did not laugh. He said he thought I could do it, if I really work hard. That was the really nice way of saying, "ain't no way. . ."

I called all those people back on Saturday and told them about the insane dream I had. . .They weren't buying it. It looks like I'll be attempting suicide by exercise in the next few weeks. On the positive side, it should make for humorous reading. . .even if it is short-lived.