In other news, I think I’m going to die. I had my first workout with my Personal Trainer (who is a woman, but we will call Bob to protect her anonymity). It was tough, but I made it all the way through without having an asthma attack, passing out or dying. It’s a start. Tomorrow may be a different story. Already, my body parts are screaming profanities unfit for polite or even impolite company. My shoulders are tied up in gigantic knots. They feel like Delta Burke’s shoulder pads in the first couple seasons of Designing Women. My calves feel like those two loaves of bread I made last week, stones. I am committed though, and I will go buy new sneakers, because hiking boots do not make good workout footwear. I will walk for 45 minutes on the C&O trail this weekend with Max (and Jen if she’ll go with us). I will come in to work on Saturday to use the gym. I will do my squats, push ups, bicep curls and ride the bike while reading CNN on the TV. I will sweat and smell bad and use a communal shower. Not because I want to, but because I have to. I will be a shape other than round and blobbish, and if I’m not, I will at least not be as round and blobbish, and I will be able to keep up with Max and play volleyball, and maybe even basketball again. I now see an excuse to get an iPod… one can only read CNN on TV for so long before diving through the nearest window.
In good news, I think I have the menu all worked out for next week. Jen invited some folks over, and I’m going to make something yum-tastic. Maybe not the soup from last weekend, but maybe. You never know. I’ll post the menu when it’s final and I’ve purchased all the goods.