Yesterday there was apparently some talk of preparing for beach bodies. You know, rock hard abs, a tight ass and arms that don’t do that crazy jello jigglers thing. Though I was not part of the conversation, I was told that it was said that I’ve been “looking good lately”. Apparently losing 14lbs doesn’t go unnoticed and neither does the four lbs gained over the past week.
My reaction to this statement was an “Oh…but I haven’t been to the gym since the Neolithic period”. No one wants to hear that they’ve been looking good when they’re depressed. I want to hear that I’m getting paunchy and that my ass is looking mighty flabby.
So I did what any self-respecting woman would do, I went to Five Guys and gorged on ye old veggie sandwich (for future reference, they melt the cheese with the mushrooms and then they melt in your mouth and you praise the good Lord for fungus) and some Cajun fries. When I had finished stuffing my invariably chubby face with my food, I moved onto the chocolate Teddy Grahams and capped it all off with a glass of Shiraz, so that by the end I could be confident that I would be puking. But thankfully, there was none, but instead a stomach full of crap and one little chocolate graham arm lying next to me. Poor little bear.
Despite all of this there was a dark cloud looming above as a few days beforehand I had already pretty much sold my soul for a good cause. I’m sure that when I did it, I was being inhabited by someone else because when it comes to a good cause I’m all about shelling out the doe rather than actually doing something. I actually once cried while doing Habitat for Humanity because it was hot and I was tired and oh…I’m going to HELL. Apparently all of that didn’t matter the other day and my fingers and brain were doing the walking and my body – specifically my legs – wasn’t in on this conversation. A conversation in which I signed up for a fucking 5K… this 5K to be exact.
So you know what this means right? It means more time at the gym and less time stuffing my face with Cajun deliciousness and red wine. It also means putting this misery holding pattern that I’ve been in, on the back burner. Though perfectly capable of running 5K quite smoothly, I’m not about to embarrass myself in front of a few thousand people. I just look at it this way, hopefully this will keep me out of hell after the whole Habitat thing and I’ll probably lose like 10 lbs in the process. There's also that whole I fucking hate cancer thing that makes me want to do this oh and this minor detail. Let the running begin.
And of course all of you wonderful, kind, witty, pretty people can contribute right HERE.
As an added incentive, for all you local kids, if you donate the most, you'll get a little something from me...besides my undying love and affection that is.