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Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Apparently I'm Really Into Killing Myself This Week...and it's only Tuesday

Ummm...what is wrong with me?

Seriously...why do I do these things to myself?

Let's start with Sunday...Husband goes out for an early morning run.  I get ready to go to spin class so we can bring the Crazies to the pool later on and have a nice Family Day (so queer, aren't we?).

I do my morning routine...stumble out of bed, throw on a touch of makeup (yes, for the gym...don't judge), go downstairs for coffee, hope the Crazies give me a few minutes to read blogs, do my "business," and eat breakfast.

All of that went very smoothly and Husband even got back in time for me to leave (and get my favorite bike...I'm kind of a stickler about it b/c it's between two fans, which means less chance of dying).

I text Husband that my morning "business" was bright red.

I wasn't lying was bright freaking RED!!!

(Dear Blog-land...welcome to'll like it here)

He gets all freaked out and gives me the "we'll talk later" text.

Then I text back "beets."  Why hadn't I thought of it earlier???  I ate a bunch of beets on Saturday and they must have had their way with my system.  And here I was thinking I was dying...dur.


Does anyone else enjoy freaking out their spouse?


Now on to the next way I tried to kill myself...
Yesterday, I took a new class at my gym.  It's called "Balls and Weights" which makes me laugh because anything with the word "balls" in it makes me giggle...yes, apparently I'm a 14-year old boy at heart.

I have heard very interesting things about this class.  I have stolen glances at the women who line up outside the door...with their big balls (heehee).  I have wondering if it was as hard as everyone claimed.

Well, my friends...let me tell was worse.

Imagine the worst things you EVER did in gym class (squat thrusts, endless leg squats up against a wall, but then alternate lifting each leg for 10 seconds, plank with your legs around an exercise ball, etc) and then do 5 sets of 10 with a mere 10 second break.  I was fucking DYING!!!

Seriously, I can't tell you how many things I didn't finish...correction:  couldn't finish.

I was that person who was clearly (and heavily) breathing every single count out loud...and I wasn't the only one.  It was torture...pure torture.  The kind of torture that several women would grunt and groan and throw themselves on the ground as the set ended...women that are in great shape...women who have been taking this class for a while.  They were dying too.

It's so bad that I was already feeling The Hurt yesterday afternoon and was having trouble getting up from the floor.  I took a bath, iced my knee twice, and prayed that I wouldn't fall out of bed like Captain Dan (run, Forrest run reference) if the Crazies need me in the middle of the night.  I'll let you know how it goes (since I'm writing this the night before).

I am petrified.

More than one person told me that I wouldn't walk normally until Thursday (if that) and then I'd be coming in to the same instructor's cycle kill myself again.


So, enough about me and my poor decisions...let's have a quick Crazy moment.

Me:  Hailey, you're sniffling...I hope you're not getting a cold...
Hailey:  I am...I am getting a cold.
Me (totally buying into the drama that is running rampant through our house):  Oh no!
Hailey:  Yeah...I getting a cold.  I need a sweatshirt.

That's right...this girl needed a sweatshirt for her "cold" on a 98 degree day.