I have some friends with magic abs. I love them dearly, however they do make me throw up in my mouth a little bit (you know who you are). I saw a photo of one of my magic ab friends 3 weeks after she had her baby girl.... in a bikini. Not surprisingly, her abs looked better 3 weeks after carrying a watermelon than mine do 18 months after giving birth to one. Ugh.
I've spent the last few days reminiscing about my time in high school and college when I was thin and didn't have to do a damn thing to be that way. I brought this up to my sweet husband and his response was "honey, that's just part of getting older". Screw that. I want to grow young if that's the case. I wish I could go all Benjamin Button on him.
In attempts to regain the figure of my youth (no, I'm not ninety, but lets get real - I'm 2.5 years away from 30. To me that's OLD) I have decided to start the "Couch-to-5K". An exercise program specificaly created for those who don't do exercise programs. Exactly what I need. You gradually work your way up to running more and more and by the end of the 9 weeks you are supposedly able to run a 5K.
So how's it going you ask? Well, yesterday at 3:00 was my first time. I decided I should be very strategic and intellectual about it and chose the friggin' hottest time of day in the friggin' hottest part of the year to begin my weigh loss journey. Yay for brains. I was hard core about it though. I said "its now or never" and hit the asphalt with Rocky music echoing in my head....
Cut to 4 minutes later. The Rocky music has stopped. I am now hearing french horns and trumpets playing "Alleluia" hymns because I am certain that death is upon me. I can't breathe. My cute running shorts are riding up my fat butt who has decided to eat them. My perfectly smoothed pony tail is now disheveled and partially sideways, flapping in the wind like white flag of surrender. Sweat is dripping down my God-awful uncomfortable sports bra and I have a stick stuck in the laces of my shoe. I had pushed myself from the category of "cute girl running" to "special girl they let out of the facility for a walk".
While my appearance was particulary horrid, I also began dealing with a knee that was about to explode. I have no idea what I did to my knee in 8th grade, but I remember hurting it and every now and then when I put a lot of continuous strain on it, it starts hurting. Well, considering I haven't run in 5011 years for this very reason, I wasn't surprised to find it throbbing. I wanted to stop REALLY bad but I knew I had to come home to my Ranger hubs and I just couldn't face the shame of having quit.
God must've heard me because it was at that moment that I passed my an old boyfriend's apartment. This guy was so totally nutso that he could've had his own show with Dr. Drew. He was horrible and thanks to him I get to carry the weight of about 30 emotional suitcases. Anyway, as I passed his old place I began thinking about how horrible he made me feel all the time and I was like "ha! I'll show you psycho!". I then went all psycho and started repeating profanities rhythmically in my head as I ran. It got me through the rest of my ru,n but as I approached my house I was limping like a 3 legged dog. Adam must've seen me and came running to the door asking what happened. No, I didn't get mugged and beaten (although I probably looked it) - I overworked my knee while screaming profanities at an ex's apartment. Yeah, that sounds WAAAY better....
Needless to say I can't walk this morning. Previously I was an out of shape, middle aged woman. Now, I'm an out of shape ninety year old who needs a cane.... fantastic. Let's hope things heal up quickly so I can run by the ex's and throw rocks at it for hurting my knee now.