"oh audrey, i look like hell! i got bags under my eyes. what's that? well if you were a man i'd punch you. punch you right in the mouth. that's bush, bush league. you hear me? audrey? look at me!" i concur. this challenge has had it out for my looks from the beginning. sweaty hair, red face, pale face, messy buns. sick sick sick. but lets be realistic, is it ever going to be acceptable to don a sparkly hair clip, or even a french braid? probably not, so we better start getting used to it ladies. there are other venues we can upgrade the high maintenance factor in, to make up for our steady increase of our exxxercise faces. dirty, sexy EJ:x money was on the agenda first tonight. i wasn't originally intending on doing the class, but i thought to myself... what the hell? sniffles and sparky were on it like a cheap suit tonight. cardio to start. my legs are propelling themselves at this point. i don't have much going on mentally (on the best of days, let alone without sleep, food and constant slamming of my body) so i'm glad i'm starting to be on auto pilot. then it was kinesis time. i was just minding my own business, doing some more bicep curls when, "oh, sparky! i wasn't expecting company. just doing my workout. wednesdays are arms and back. oh, it's the deep burn. oh, it's so deep. i can barely lift my right arm i did so many. son of a bee-sting."
through the agility phase, i was mentally beating myself up. things like 'maybe i'll just leave and not do the release plus class' and 'why do i love thisssss?' but my final thought that pushed me round the bend to the end of the class was 'but just think of how sweet your buns will look, and imagine how much money you'll save not using a laundry machine.' so i pulled through, bent over, let all the blood rush to my head, and stood up as fast as i could. sniffles told me to.
news on the calves: i've scored my meal ticket and i'm on a hot trip back into running. well, not exactly running, it's this new fad called uh, jogging. i believe it's jogging, or yogging. it might be a soft 'j'. apparently you just run for an extended period of time. it's supposed to be wild. so i've re-introduced this into my routine this week, and i continued it for the release plus tonight. does everyones thighs jiggle when they run on the treadmill? i was looking at my reflection in the window whilst yogging, and i just thought that it looked hilarious.
i started off with the deep squats on the kinesis, which are always a laugh, but tonight it got funnier. i finished my last squat and felt a little tug on the bottom of my shorts. i turned around to deck the person trying to pants me in the middle of class, only to see big al smiling at me. after our 2-3 second lingering bout of eye contact, he smugly hissed "miss gems, you have a massive wedgie." pretending to be shocked, i placed my hand on my heart, gasped for air and replied "really? yes, i do. um, i'm sorry, it's the... it's the liner. it's uh, it's actually an optical illusion. it's the plaid on the shorts. it's not flattering in the glute-ial region. i'm actually taking them back right now. taking them back to the... to the shorts store. oh, this is akward."
and we stood there staring at eachother, trainer and young grasshopper, at a crossroad of life. i'll never forget what went through my mind at this specific moment in time. "someday, all of this junk will be gone."
i've also banned myself from group stretching while wearing my little shorts. the little buggers tend to creep on up, until clearly they've gone too far. it gets the attention of the class like there's a show that's about to begin. maybe when the junks out of the trunk, and i've upgraded myself to the premier holy shit package things will get a bit crazier. but until then, pg ej. that's a lot of letters.
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