Friday, March 2, 2012

Blah Day

There is all manner of severe weather going down in my neck of the woods. Tornado watches and warnings and OH SHITS are running rampant through Facebook. Every other status quotes something about "tornadic" activity (I am still trying to figure out if that is a real word). Hell, my kids are getting out of school an hour early today because of it.

I know this is bad, but I'm not much for weather-y shenanigans. When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me that the mountains were around us to protect us and that was the good thing about living where I did/do. (She didn't mention that was the ONLY good thing.) So when I see this stuff, I'm kinda like, "OK, whatever." THIS IS ALL BAD. I KNOW THAT. My family all hates me for it. In a way, I am a stunning daredevil of weather related phenomena. I have a very self-destructive sense running through me, and I think this is part of it. Some people abuse drugs, some develop eating disorders, and some are just general "Fuck it!"'s about questions of personal safety. That's where I come in.

I also eat food off the floor. There. I'm not afraid to say it.

Anyway, I'm not feeling super awesome today anyway, and I'll tell you why (and no, it doesn't have anything to do with eating something gnarley):

Fucking ab exercises.

Yesterday we started our March challenge as a family (run/walk a mile and read for 26 minutes each day). I happily loaded my group into the car after work (some more grudgingly than others) and we took our walk. I didn't have high hopes for Sam, who said he had already walked a mile that day. That little nerd, though....HOLY CRAP. That kid ran his mile. It was amazing. Especially given that he is pretty short with little strides. He would run for a while, notice that he was a good deal in front of us (especially at the beginning before Alice allowed us to put her in her stroller), stop and play with sticks, and then run again. I was so, so happy. How he learned to do that, I'll never know. Maybe Batman: Arkham City taught him? In that case, thanks, BATMAN!!!

Like I said, after the first 1/4 of a mile when Alice insisted on walking and picking.up.every.single.stick., I was able to go pretty fast myself. Allie can definitely walk the mile, but I think she enjoyed being put in the stroller and pushed while some heaving mad woman pushed her and made stupid references to silent Russian films about the revolution. I was proud of myself. It was my first time out in a while, and it felt good.

I got home and I WAS INSPIRED. I made dinner and did my family reading, and then it was ON LIKE DONKEY KONG. I went through some old Fitness magazines that I was using to hold up boot shafts (roll 'em up, girls, and stick em in to store yo' boots!), and found this ab workout thing by that Jackie person who used to be on Bravo. Is she still on Bravo? I have no idea. Up until about three months ago, I my cable provider didn't offer Bravo or MSNBC because those stations are for THE GAYS and we should all be watching Pat Robertson anyway, you know. Anyway, I tore out the page and found my 5 lb. dumbbell which was hiding, interestingly, next to this stupid religious book about debt that my MIL gave to my husband and a dustbunny the size of my youngest child.

(Ok, the weather is really getting hairy now. I feel like one of those guys they send to the Outer Banks in a blue anorak to talk about hurricanes. I hope I don't die while I'm typing this. At least you'll be able to say, "She died as she lived: being stupid on the internet.")

I started doing the exercises while watching a tivoed episode of Snapped. Alice was sitting on the couch watching Angelina Ballerina on her iPod. She kept saying "What you doing, Mommy?" and I kept saying, "Exercising." I got to the fourth exercise of the five (first rep of all of them), and all of a sudden, I felt like I was going to puke. The urge was so strong, I sat down, put the dumbbell down and stared at the TV in disgust. How was I that out of shape? Alice then goes, "Why you stop exercising, Mommy?" and I had to say, "Don't rub it in, kid."

This morning I got up, and I just felt weird. Like really "off." I have kind of a sick headache, and I've been really lightheaded a couple of times. And I just don't feel like myself. I am wearing black leggings from Target, a spring dress, a scarf, my denim jacket, and a pair of Frye Harness boots. That means nothing to you, but really, if I'm wearing leggings and a dress, what I'm basically saying is, "Stay away from me. I'm a little bit bitchy today and the world hates me." It is my version of pj pants and crocs.

So I called my mom. My mom is an exercise and diet fiend, more out of necessity than anything else. She's one of these people who has insanely high cholesterol that is not easily controlled, so it is either take a medicine that makes her feel bad or be a little unhinged. She chooses being crazy. She confirmed that the ab exercises in P90X do that to her. She also thought I was coming down a bit from having a lot of sugar last weekend when we celebrated her birthday by getting pukey drunk on BabyCakes cupcakes. My 12 y.o. daughter had the wherewithall to step away from the sugar when she had had enough. We did not. Because we're dumb.

This is a really long way of saying two things 1) I am bored today, and I don't feel good, and 2) Ab exercises are the devil. I hate them forever. I am thinking of letting my belly get really big and floppy and walking around Wal-Mart in a pair of cotton pants JUST TO SPITE THEM. Pass the Ben & Jerry's, bitches. It's about to get fluffy up in here.

This is just another reason for me to hate Fergie.

*I should note that this is the second Friday in a row that I haven't done Fashion Friday. Last week was because of crazy work stuff--I have a half written post featuring a dress I bought that Wardrobe Oxygen also bought which is yes, awesome--and this week is because I am Oscar the Grouch in a scarf. Next week! When the sun will shine and my abs will be much happier with me.

No comments:

Post a Comment