12.10.2013 Post

On Sunday I decided that a workout was going to happen. I was pretty determined. I put on music (I became OBSESSED with “Work” by Iggy Azalea and that pumped me up pretty good) and started dancing around my room like a maniac. If I would have recorded myself I’m sure it wouldn’t have been pretty (I picture a zoo animal hopped up on X), but still. Burning calories is burning calories is burning calories. Just then I convinced myself it would be awesome to lift weights. I picked them up and went to “Work.” J After way too many bicep curls, about 30 sit-ups and 10 or so squats (those are difficult), I felt proud. I even worked up a little sweat—I mean that has to be at least 500 calories burned. FML Note: I probably consumed them all back when I went to Burger King yesterday. On the brighter side, I woke up with sore back muscles and neck muscles this morning! No pain no gain, right? FML Note: On the not-so-bright side, I’m about 95% sure I’m about to get a really nasty cold. My subconscious is laughing at me though, saying crap like “You think this is bad? Wait ‘til you’re out there jogging at negative 3 degrees next month. Then you can get sick. Maybe. P***y.”