Well, I’ve been working hard to… well, feel better overall.
Aaaaaaand try, try, trying to reduce my warehouse-store-sized-muffin-top to more of a standard-sized-muffin-top.
Am I making sense?
I really am just a woman who sets reasonable goals. I will always have a muffin top. I’m OK with that.
Well, not really, but that’s what I tell myself.
I tell myself a lot of things.
But that’s an entirely different post.
Aaaaanywho. I’ve been taking this challenge for the last month. Which means I am counting calories and exercising more. But in the last week, specifically, I have set my mind to the kicking of my own butt.
I hear that is considered hawt in some cultures. And crazy in others. So.
I have been going for the 500 calorie burn everyday for 7 days straight.
Like I said, I am a reasonable woman doing reasonable things.
And I was doing good… I went 5 days straight!
But on the 5th day I met kickbuttingboxing.
A “friend” (see :: below) had posted on The FB a few times about this kickboxing class and all of it’s calorie burning awesome. So I decided to take her up on the challenge.
I went.
BUT SHE DIDN’T.
::looks at Shayne::
Isn’t there something about crack dealers not smoking their own stuff?
I am a little naive when it comes to The Crack. Does one smoke it, shoot it or snort it?
I actually don’t care. Useless information.
I digress…
Kickboxing. And how my friend Shayne was being like a dealer and she wasn’t there to brave the pain/shoot up with me.
Right?
Aaaanywho.
You want to know what I think? I think God would have rested on the SIXTH day instead of the SEVENTH if he had gone to a kickboxing class.
That class is why I did not burn 500 calories a day for 7 days straight.
Because on Day 5 I kickboxed with Castor and on Day 6 I passed-out rested.
Actually, I started resting THAT DAY. I was passed out COLD by 10 p.m. That is unheard of for nocturnal webmistresses such as me.
People, I could not stay upright!
Even sitting was too much of a request for my kickboxed-out body.
Then on Day 6? I NAPPED.
HARD.
I was ALL up in the face of that nap.
Slobber. Limbs immovable.
I owned that nap in the same way a toddler owns a balloon animal. Don’t mess.
Mothers? You know that tired you feel the first few weeks after giving birth?
I WAS EXHAUSTED LIKE THAT.
But I didn’t have to wear those mesh undies and do all sorts of “undercarriage” care.
So… Kickboxing 1 – Childbirth 0
???
Turns out, a different friend, Staci, was at the kickboxing class! We parallel kickboxed!
::looks at Shayne::
I neither kicked nor boxed my friend Staci.
SUCCESS!
Funny thing though… When I got/dragged myself home I had a note in my FB messages from that Staci saying,
HEY!
BOOT CAMP!
And I think the lactic acid build-up had already reached my brain because I was all, “OK!”
::wild eyes::
::no, WILDER::
So on the 6th day I rested and on the 7th day I went to this “boot camp”.
At boot camp the guy forced us to do things… “worms” or “the worm” or as I call choose to call it, “the most unattractive thing to do in public ever”…
I also did more push-ups than I think is considered legal…
(I think I may be hooked)
See??? Just say no to drugs!
Wait. I didn’t do drugs.
Well, I know one thing for certain… I may be saying NO to stairs for the next few days.
Oh so much.
::ow ow::
::ow::
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