@postaday 60; #postaday2011
Last night Coach John looked sternly at me and told me I was going to get up at the butt-crack of dawn and do my 65 minutes on the elliptical at 24-Hour Fitness Hawaii Kai.
“Lock and load the girls,” he ordered.
What does that mean? It means that when I work out the next morning, I put on a jog bra before I go to bed. Why? Because when I’m barely awake I become a human pretzel and so frustrated I plop on the bed and wanna be a crybaby sissy girl. So I put it on while I’m still coherent. I loathe those things. Geeze. Could anything be harder to put on? Body armor. Gaghhhh!
Last week I slacked off from the gym a few days because I logged in an impressive (for me) amount of miles in the wild on my bicycle. Wheee. Tried to coast on that for a while when John busted me one night last week. And really, even though I read books such as “Younger Next Year for Women,” and “Blue Zones,” do I think it’s a big-ass party to drag mine out of bed while it’s still dark to work out? Hellas NO!
I’m on my elliptical this morning, minding my own business, rockin’ to my girl Madonna, and Randy, who owns the ’76 service station at Koko Marina Shopping Center, looks over at me from his machine, pulls out his ear bud and waits.
“I rode my bike last week!”
Gosh, I owe EVERYBODY an explanation! LOL.
“You were gone TWO WEEKS!” Oh thanks, Randy. And no I wasn’t. He’s mistaken. I guess he was just missing me. Forgiven.
I would wager that nobody, NOBODY, really, really, really thinks working out is the best thing in life. But everybody, EVERYBODY who does really, really, really thinks the results are. So as I Kick My Own Butt (KMOB) and you kick yours, isn’t it nice to know that said butt isn’t messing up someone’s vista?