You might have noticed that I had stopped blathering (for a short while, at least) about all the running and my related awesomeness. It’s not because I figured you were tired of it (although I’m sure you are) and it’s not because I grew suddenly modest (we all know that’s never gonna happen). It’s because, for awhile at least, the running stopped. Instead, I started beating myself. Daily.
My partner-in-crime from across the street, Corrie, begged me to become her exercise accountability person. BWA HA HA! She had no idea the amount of nagging she was asking for! Right? But, because I adore her – and daily doses of the dynamic duo was too much to pass up – I agreed. So almost every day (for there was a short break during the Great “Sleep”over of 2012), Corrie has dragged herself across the street and we’ve made each other follow along as Jillian beat us over the head with her stupid handweights and her nattering voice.
Oh, yes – I’ve turned Corrie into a Shred-head.
It’s pretty much the funnest thing ever. Well, aside from the sore muscles and utter exhaustion and the difficulty in keeping any kind of nighttime routine when you interrupt it for an aerobic workout. But! There is much venting and laughing and joke-cracking and general awesomness that I am almost sad that the beatings will be on hold for awhile. M’partner-in-crime is having a wee small surgery and so she’ll be out of commission for awhile. And then I will be on vacation (YAY!!), and then Kim will be back and we can resume the beatings with extra-awesome.
It’s a minor setback, really, and it’s almost ridiculous how addicted I’ve become to daily doses of butt-kicking with that crazylady from across the street, but look at it this way: I have an entire month in front of me I can use to catch up on my running! Aren’t you stupid-excited to hear about all of my running adventures again? Yep, that’s just what I thought.