I promised myself I wasn’t going to write about this.  I wasn’t going to give the trainer the satisfaction of knowing that he’d won.  But ladies and gentlemen as the day has worn on I find that every single one of my thoughts is focused on the fact that every single muscle in my body hurts.

Yesterday, I lost my mind and participated in a boot camp.  My chipper little mind that wants me to have a healthy heart and eliminate the food baby says “yay you… you should do this all the time”.  The rest of me thinks I am an idiot.

So my question for the cosmic void today is “Why in God’s name would I need the same exercises as a soldier to be a fundraiser for the American Heart Association?”  The answer is “I DON’T”  I am trying NOT to let people die.  Soldiers kill people.  We are opposites.  I don’t need a boot camp.  Actually, wait I already went to a two day boot camp for the Heart Association.  I sat in a room for two days with sandwiches and cookies … and I listened.  I actively listened to a whole bunch of shit about cardio vascular disease.  And I wasn’t sore when it was all over.

I was just in a meeting and literally got confused and said the wrong thing.  Do you know why?  Cause I was thinking about the calluses on the palms of my hands and how they hurt but that I couldn’t look at them since it would hurt too much to actually turn my hand over.  Yeah, you heard me.  Even my wrists hurt.

First of all, I now hate the term “on the hop”  If anyone ever says that to me and expects me to run.  I will cut them.

Second, I don’t like push ups.  If I fall face down and have to get up -someone should help me.  I should not be expected to get myself up.  Ergo, I don’t need to do push ups.  To use my new favorite saying “Push Ups can blow me”

Third, Jumping Jacks seem innocent.  Matthew even called them easy.  My ass.  Jumping Jacks are evil.  They are the worst kind of evil.  They are a sneaky evil.  You think that they are all friendly with their cute name.  But today at 1:43 pm… I CAN’T MOVE MY ARMS. If what I have to say wasn’t so important… I promise you I would not be typing.

Fourth, you guys know me.  What the hell was I thinking participating in an activity where RUNNING was considered the break.

Fifth, squats are assholes.

But God help me, I packed a change of clothes to go again tonight.  If anyone is available to wash my hair and dress me tomorrow – that would be great cause I am 100% sure that I will not be able to do it.