So I'm ready to have the lungs ripped from me. I'm ready to feel my heart thrashing against my ribcage until I vomit after a solid 4 minutes of physical exertion, because that is all that I am capable of at this juncture. I'm ready to pour myself out of my night's personal sleep indent in my memory foam bed at 5:00 am and then spread across the floor like spilled syrup into my yoga pants and the algonquin college tshirt that I've grabbed at in the dark so as not to wake the baby as I leave. Then running shoes. After that, I will spill down my stairs and into Zippy the car. From there, I will drive blearily to the sport center where I've volunteered to be be shouted at and bossed around by some perky little punk wearing matching lululemon until I am 'in shape' or some derivative thereof.
Two weeks. I should make a ticker. Wish me luck because I can hardly wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment