Today was a challenge. Groom and I left our house at 6:15am to drive two hours from the coast (where we spend our weekends) to the mountains (where we reluctantly spend our weekdays). Today, we decided to drive back to the coast to spend the night here. Long story short, groom has a fishing trip in the morning and I am without a car. Poor me.
I was on a roll at work–one of those days when things are clicking into place and you don’t want to stop. If I hurried, I could squeeze maybe 20 minutes to get my daily exercise. My officemate and friend–Little Miss Bounce a Quarter–suggested we walk a short loop on the resort property, the majority of which happens on an uphill road I battle nearly every day all winter long.
|it doesn’t look steep but it burned my ass|
And so we walked a mile along paved roads, halfway uphill, halfway down. When it was over, meh… I felt like I hadn’t done anything and lamented, as I wiped the sweat dripping from my nose, that I would have to get on the elliptical tonight before dinner. My friend, oh sage of sages, noted that 20 minutes of heavy breathing (get your Red Bull on) is better than nothing. AND, she reminded me, the more I exercise, the less painful it will be.
Nine days of exercise, albeit lame and with bad hangovers, and I’m already just a wee bit stronger. Seriously. The SS Fatass is making a tiny little difference by including some form of exercise every day, and this ship plans to continue its journey. (God, I hate the word journey. In fact, I hate that entire metaphor, except for the Fatass part.)