You know how there are some days when you're all:
I'M GOING TO RUN A MOTHER EFFING MARATHON!!!!
And then like 2.I'mALazyAss seconds later, you're all:
Ya. That's me.
Anyone else with me?!
Procrastinating Pretend Over-Achievers UNITE!
I am, however, still attending Bootcamp 3(ish) times a week. We're into our 5th week. Yippe Skippy for me. Apparently, since I'm working out like a gladiator, my body has decided that I need to eat ALL the foods. Seriously. ALL of it. I can NOT stop shoving junk in my mouth! Oh, there's cupcakes....ok, I'll have 6. Glazed donuts......baker's dozen please. Stuffed Green Peppers......oh, I'll forcefully shovel two large ones in my pie hole. While my 6'5" husband only has 1.5. Yeah. Just ONE would have been enough. Jesus, Mary, and Saggy Asses. GAHHHH!
It's just soooo hard. *enter whiny pitiful voice*
In other news is I'm getting off the juice.
No not the 'roids.
Yup. I've gone 2 weeks. Well, I relapsed a little last weekend and had a can of the go-go nectar of the Gods. But I'm still winning in my mind.
Back to Bootcamp.
Otherwise known as Satan's Mistress's Attempt At Torturing The Little People.
You know, some people think it's all:
But it's totally not.
I mean, we work our ASSES off. The little Demon Princess (aka Morgan, Personal Trainer to the Minions) makes us actually sweat! Can you believe that shit?! I know, me either.
Surprisingly, even though I've gained weight and I haven't lost any inches. I do see my pitiful muscles forming. Like, I know that I have some shoulder muscles. And I'm starting to see my Ben & Jerry's (thunder thighs) take shape. And not look like two gigantic watermelons attached to my hips.
Oh, quick note about my Ben & Jerry's. Jerry tried to make a break for it last week. Little bastard. Yup, there I was, about 9:54 in the morning, enjoying a mouthwatering sugar-loaded glazed donut, when I feel a little 'draft'. Or at least I feel like something is not quite right.....down there. Hoping that I just left my fly down, I tentatively glance down.
Farts. (not literally, this is just an expression.)
Yup, Jerry busted a hole in my FAVORITE pair a jeans. Basically going from upper inside thigh to back below my bubble ass. It was about 4 inches. Gives a whole new meaning to 'busted can of biscuits'.
It's the middle of the morning. I couldn't exactly go home and change because, well, that's just not possible at my lovely place of employment. It's like The Labyrinth here, once you enter, you can't find your way back out. It's a miracle I actually get to leave at the end of my shift......oh wait, no I don't. Because sometimes someone schedules an interview at 4pm. My shift ends at 4pm. Fuck you very much. And it just so happened that the day Jerry tried for a flight of freedom, was my first interview that week. Holy balls, could my day not get any worse.
So there I was, my right thigh just flapping in the wind, and I have to talk to someone about professionalism at my place of work. And to 'join my team', because we're just a special kind of quality. And not actually just a few crayons short of a full box.
Needless to say, I made it through without anyone noticing. Or if they did notice, they didn't say anything. And if it would have been a bigger rip, i would have totally Bonnie-fied it by stapling that shit back together. But, sadly, it wasn't big enough.
I also had a stern talking-to to Mr. Jerry, and enthusiastically stated that any future attempted jail breaks were strictly prohibited, I didn't care if he's feeling 'more muscular' or not. Shit's just not right.
So that's what happened to me last week.
This week I'm going to try and not eat an entire Little Debbie factory.
And I might even run tonight. Since The Weather Gods are feeling generous and are blessing us with highs in the upper 60s. Don't worry tho, I'm sure they'll be little assholes and it'll snow next week. Might as well get out while I can, right?!
Cheers to me trying to push the stroller through sand/gravel!!! Can't wait to see how this goes.