Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Working Out Sucks, Dude

Ok, I just worked out. Yeah. I put on a sports bra and everything. Two years ago, this would be normal behavior. But not anymore! Ever since the collapse of my supposed wonderful relationship with "the idiot," I pretty much just let myself do whatever I wanted. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you get dumped!

And at the risk of sounding like Britney Spears.....y'all, I am so out of shape. I ran/walked/struggled/crawled/heaved/and nearly died through two miles on that wretched treadmill tonight. It took me over 30 minutes to go 2 miles since I kept accidentally hitting the pause button and then kept wimping out when the shooting pain in my side got too bad. Also, I like breathing. And I can't breathe when I run. AT ALL. I don't care how much I concentrate on breathing in and breathing out and taking deep breaths and using my nose and lungs. I CAN'T DO IT. And really, the harder I ran, the worse I felt because of the jiggly jiggly wubbly bubbly of my fatty fat fat. OH MY GOSH. I kid you not, my mind kept saying (cause God knows my mouth couldn't say it), "The jiggling! The fat! MY LOVE HANDLES ARE THE HUGEST LOVE HANDLES IN THE ENTIRE WORLD! How could I let myself become the pillsbury doughboy!?"

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