Wednesday, June 4, 2014

So this happened this morning. All because I wanted to improve my quality of life.

"Mommmmyyy can we go to the park?"
"Maybe later. I gotta WORKKKOUTTTT"
"Why do you have to workout?"
"Well son, Mommy is....getting.. squishy"

It's been 3 months since the last time I worked out. Remember how super motivated I was to eat clean and praise Jillian Micheal's. Yeah, that didn't last long.
I feel like I have a really hard time committing to something especially when it comes to physical activity. I just love food to god damn much.

I love cheese, I love chocolate, I love ice cream and not to mention I love my double double's. Not coffee. Vodka. 
Me on a typical Monday evening.

Lately Ive been trolling Instagram to get some "fitspiration" if you wanna call it that. These hot babes with tight ass cheeks, tight legs, tight abs, tight hoo haws, tight arms. Tight everything.

 It's not fair you know. I try so god damn hard and then I somehow end up with brie cheese, peanut butter m&m's and my life is fucking over. OVER. I thought I had a problem with my drinking, turns out my foodie addiction is worse. I looked in the mirror two weeks ago and saw that my flat tire and love handles had made an appearance.

Like I said two weeks ago was when I noticed this and until today I hadn't done anything about it.

So this morning as I had ya know an ounce of energy, I said GAME FUCKING ON. Lets do this. I searched my bookmarks for videos, clicked on the link. There I was puking and contemplating life. You want 100 jumping jacks? Your fucking nuts lady. 10 jumping jacks in sweat is pouring down my face, my mouth is dry and I feel like someone kicked me behind the knees. You know when you run slow motion and everything kind of flops up and down and at times your tits will smack you in that face? Well my stomach fat was slapping me.

It's OVER.

I would punch anyone in the face at this point, just to feel my pain. Next was crunches. I lay on my mat. Start curling up and my stomach was like rolling out pizza dough. It was disgusting. I wasn't puking from the pain at this point, I was puking because of the flat tire full of cheese rind and chocolate. 

At this point I have no recollection of what I'm even doing. You want to do high knees. I'll give you high knees in the face. 

Side lunges....

 I stretch to the side, bed the knee. All I can hear is literally a muscle tear or my vagina bone shatter. Slow motion collapse to the floor.


Can you get casts for your Vagina? Cause I might need one. It almost feels like the burning sensation of birth. Now what the fuck am I to do. I'm trying not to go back on my commitment of working out and scratching out food altogether. I know what will fix this. 

Well, not really. ;)


Post a Comment