Reminder To Self

This morning was the first of many miserable mornings to come. I woke up at 5:30 to go to the gym with Nick. We have already started off bad with the 5:30 part, it is like trying to wake up a five hundred pound walrus that has been hibernating for a thousand years. As I was walking up the stairs to work, my eyes were spilling over from the pain and when someone asked if I was ok, I quickly covered it up with "I'm feeling the Christmas spirit," because if I had told them that I worked out for approximately a half hour, he would have laughed and pushed me down the stairs. I remembered that I had once blogged of a previous work out conquest and thought I would go back and re-read it. After reading it again, I believe that the only way you could convince me to work out is if I am rewarded with a chocolate cake the size of Mount Kilimanjaro at the end...

(Re-Post)
So everyone is well aware of my husbands undying need to exercise 25 hours a day. I really appreciate this for the most part because it is nice knowing that I wont have to outlive him and be the lonely cat lady that lives off of easy mac and cereal and crochets booties for the gnomes on my front lawn. However, it is bad because after I have three children and eat my life away only feeding on Starbursts, Oreos and Cookie Crisp cereal, people will begin to ask my husband, who looks like he belongs on baywatch, how long he is planning on living with his mother. That is when I use a new weight loss method by turning on Michael Bolton, and spin with my forehead on a bat until I puke. This has gone on way to long... After seeing what my future would hold if I didn't do something about my unhealthy diet, I have decided to do something about it so that I can keep fit with Nick. I figure if I publicly mention it, I might actually stick to it. Anyway I have been trying a little bit at a time up to now, I went running with Sarah a couple times, I gave up when she mentioned that tomorrow we would run 100 times around the track instead of 2, I need stuff like Turbo Jam to keep me entertained. I wanted to tell you all a story about the last time I went out for a little exercise...

It was a nice day out, not too hot. Sarah was running from our house in Sandy to my parents... that is approximately 6.3 miles. If you know me, that translates into; a collapsed lung, a shattered knee cap, and a severed right foot. So I opted for the easy aka beach cruiser. So while Sarah ran, I cruised next to her. At one point I thought it would be really fun to ride in the bike lane, the next thing I know I get passed by a serious biker in ugly spandex shaking his fist and yelling obscenities in German. I didn't realize that you had to be going 40MPH to be in that thing. So I got onto the sidewalk and drafted off of Sarah for a while, I might have skinned her ankles a little... sorry Sar. About 3 miles later we came upon Mt. Everest of 9800 South. Sarah gave me the coaching instructions of "right when the light turns green, peddle as fast as you can down the hill." Obviously we both thought that would give me enough push to get back up to the top. So once the light turned, I was off. I was going so fast down the hill that my feet couldn't keep up because I was in 1st gear. Well that pushed me about 10 feet up the hill so I peddled my little heart out to the Rocky soundtrack on my ipod. I was in the zone, then my muscles separated from my body and ran away screeching into the bushes because I kid you not, I started going backwards. So I hoped off of my bike and decided to walk it up. Humiliating. I was stopped twice by bikers wondering if I had a flat. I replied, no I just promised I would take my bike on a walk today, she has been in the garage for a while. When I got to the top I went into cardiac arrest and immediately pondered how I was going to carry Sarah's lifeless body up the hill. Pacing back and forth did no good because I was again questioned by an entourage of bikers. So I peddled up and down the street then thought, I better go make sure the ants haven't carried her off yet. Then, like it does in the movies, she started to appear above the horizon of asphalt like a sunset. AHH she is alive, breathing, moving! So we continued on to the destination. So while we went the rest of the way, I started noticing everyone looking like, "Ok bike rider, why don't you stop being lazy and jog like her." I looked back at them like, "because whenever I jog, a small piece of me dies and I am slammed with a stack of hospital bills." An hour and a half later... we made it. Mission accomplished. How Nick exercises every day and how Sarah runs, I will never know. But I will try my hand at the exercise and if you never receive a post from me again, ask Nick about my funeral.