Firstly, a very happy birthday to my BFF…the only person who (not that…only proper grammar here) reads this blog! What a good BFF she is, too! 🙂
Any-hoosier…my alarm gently woke me up at 3:45 this morning telling me to get my butt to the gym. Since I’m on an every other night sleep schedule (one night I sleep like a rock, the next night I barely sleep), this happened to be the night that I could have slept for another 7 hours. (I’ll let you count back 7 hours from 3:45am…) Yes, I fell asleep before 9pm. I tried to stay awake for Parenthood, but I don’t even recall Biggest Loser ending. Sheesh… Once I got to the gym, I seriously considered getting back in my car, driving home, and crawling back into bed. But no, I persevered, powered it out on the treadmill, and ran my first 2 solid/consistent miles since February when my 3rd metatarsal betrayed me. HUGE success! YAY feet!
Speaking of the gym, I am led to another awkward moment. Picture a shorter-than-average guy in his late 40s/early 50s with salt & pepper hair, wearing an old school Adidas soccer jersey that’s got a few snags in it (I’d post a picture, but I couldn’t find one that ugly). He has a staring problem. I’m sure he doesn’t just stare at me (I’m really not trying to flatter myself), but it totally creeps me out. So I’m using the Roman Chair for a little ab workout and as he walks right past me, I follow his eyes and I watch them point right up my shorts!!!!! What The Face?!?! (WTF…get it?). This continues to be awkward when I saw him on the bike/running trail several weeks later (no where near the gym). I’m hoping my awesome bike helmet disguised my identity because he probably would have tried to look down my tank top. Awkward, creepy, NOT classy.