I am getting back into the gym. Project: Makin' Shauna Smokin' started yesterday (Project: Get My Zen On started a couple weeks ago). Don't get me wrong, I'm not at the point where I'm going to be trying out for the Biggest Loser anytime soon... but I've realized that I'm not in the greatest shape because I did That Thing.
You know what I'm talking about.
I did that thing you do when you climb a few stairs and you desperately need and want to pant but you force yourself to take normal sized breaths so it doesn't LOOK like you want to pant, but then you think you might actually be able to HEAR a few hundred of those little sacks in your lungs exploding, but you give yourself a little high five anyway because you managed not pant, but as it turns out your face is a dangerous shade of magenta and your nose might actually now be swollen.
That happened on Monday. Went to the gym Tuesday.
Everyone who thinks that working out is a nice experience that makes you feel all warm and glowy should find a friend... and get them to slap you because GOING TO THE GYM SUCKS. Yeah it does. The only reason to go is in the hopes of being able to bounce a quarter off your... vastus intermedius (ahem). That's it. You. Know. I'm. Right.
And I have to go back tomorrow. So I'm pretty excited about... that.
So far no bouncing quarters. Will keep you posted.
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