Ugh! I'm gonna BARF!
That was exactly what I was thinking while I headed to workout. I had decided to stay home and chill. I made oatmeal pumpkin seed chocolate chip cookies. (I KNOW IT ISN'T ON MY DIET, pipe down food nazis!) Scott came home, and I was rockin' the kitchen to prep dinner. We chatted while I drank a cup of almond milk and munched cookies. It was 5 bloody 26 when I caved from guilt and put on my tennies. On the way there I could feel the cookies and milk rumbling in my guts.
"I'm totally going to puke. Please no jumping jacks, no jumping jacks, no jumping jacks."
I chanted this the whole way there. When I got there I broke out the bag of cookies I brought with me. I always run late and I figure a bribe is appropriate any day. Stacey brought her dogs Chim and Grimm, two little furry piffballs of love. She confessed she was bloated off gummy bears and she might barf during our run too. I laughed and said,
"They're going to think to five year olds were yakking behind the tennis courts."
Kim asked why.
I shrugged, "Milk and cookies? Gummy Bears? Who would eat that before working out?"
Stacey and I both held up our hands. We laughed. I bitched and moaned the whole workout. My thighs are jelly. We've done so many damn squats, and burpees. My legs are screaming. Still. I'm going tomorrow too. My commitment this year is to go 4 nights a week as long as I can stand it. Or until vacation.
My real commitment is to not feel guilt about things I'm not doing while I'm doing other things. I was driving to workout and I had a running litany in my head of the things I didn't get to today; like mopping the floors, vacuuming the carpets, making spring rolls, cleaning all my various beauty clutter off the bathroom counter. I killed this train of thought. I done plenty today. It's my freakin' day off! Huff!
I got home and cooked dinner. We had teriyaki chicken, sesame spinach and kale, and butternut/yam soup. I'm trying to keep us somewhat healthy, but we have to keep some yummy things sporadically. I can't live without gluttony occasionally. I'm totally a persian cat at heart. I want a silk pillow, to be fanned gently with a palm leaf, and eat whatever I damn well please.
"I'm totally going to puke. Please no jumping jacks, no jumping jacks, no jumping jacks."
I chanted this the whole way there. When I got there I broke out the bag of cookies I brought with me. I always run late and I figure a bribe is appropriate any day. Stacey brought her dogs Chim and Grimm, two little furry piffballs of love. She confessed she was bloated off gummy bears and she might barf during our run too. I laughed and said,
"They're going to think to five year olds were yakking behind the tennis courts."
Kim asked why.
I shrugged, "Milk and cookies? Gummy Bears? Who would eat that before working out?"
Stacey and I both held up our hands. We laughed. I bitched and moaned the whole workout. My thighs are jelly. We've done so many damn squats, and burpees. My legs are screaming. Still. I'm going tomorrow too. My commitment this year is to go 4 nights a week as long as I can stand it. Or until vacation.
My real commitment is to not feel guilt about things I'm not doing while I'm doing other things. I was driving to workout and I had a running litany in my head of the things I didn't get to today; like mopping the floors, vacuuming the carpets, making spring rolls, cleaning all my various beauty clutter off the bathroom counter. I killed this train of thought. I done plenty today. It's my freakin' day off! Huff!
I got home and cooked dinner. We had teriyaki chicken, sesame spinach and kale, and butternut/yam soup. I'm trying to keep us somewhat healthy, but we have to keep some yummy things sporadically. I can't live without gluttony occasionally. I'm totally a persian cat at heart. I want a silk pillow, to be fanned gently with a palm leaf, and eat whatever I damn well please.
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