Thursday, March 21, 2013

Thought for Food

Spring is finally here. Well, it's supposed to be. The calendar says it's here. I'm guessing Old Lady Nature has extended her sabbatical. Can't say as I blame her.

It's been a long winter. A long, cold, crappy winter chalk full of drama, illness and injury. Well, at least it has been in my household.

I'm over it.

Oh, spring....where for art thou? We all need you so.

To say I've got the fever would be a gross understatement. I've got it. And BAD.

I'm ready for the return of all things warm and friendly and happy. That is, after all, what spring is all about, n'est pas?

I'm ready for slightly chilly morning runs, warm late afternoons on the patio "sipping" wine with my gf's, and reading in my soccer mom chair on my front porch while my boys ride their bikes or play basketball.

Hell, I'm so freaking ready for spring I'm even slightly pumped to get out and clean up the nasty yard shit left over from last fall.

And, yet, we wait. And, wait.

So, in an attempt to ready myself for warmer days I have recently begun to kick the workout routine back up about 5 notches.

I mentioned the injury thing earlier. Yeah, for those of you in my past who shared war stories of back injuries with me all the while I shared my best GTFOI look, I'd like to apologize. Sincerely. I get it. I sooooo get it. There really are no words to describe the pain of a back injury. You have to experience it to really get it. And, then you personally get to experience the pure joy of the GTFOI looks. Which is awesome. Well played, karma.

Back injuries lead to pain meds (opiates, to be exact) which lead to silly and sometimes slightly inappropriate behavior. And, then next you know you've got the flu. Well. Okay, you're actually in full blown withdrawals from your pain meds. Which of course just makes you feel bad about yourself so you then opt to self medicate with food and a little more wine than is totally necessary.

Then one day you decide to tempt fate by dusting off your scales. And, surprise of all surprises, you've packed on a few. You and the bears and the squirrels. Good job, gal.

And THEN the Sports Illustrated swim suit issue is slathered all over the news and social media, which, of course, reminds you that warm weather really will happen some day. Soon. And you're sitting there donning your new chubby suit wiping Dorito dust off of your face.   Perhaps you need to GTFO yourself and get back to it.

So. Yesterday I went to toning class. Where I expected the normal routine of weights and squats and lunges etc. Not on this fine day. Oh no. Our instructor had other plans for us. A little something called the yoga swing.

The room itself looks like a torture chamber.

"This will be fun!", adorable, perky little instructor says. "You'll each need a hammock and a set of stirrups and handles." A what now? It all appeared slightly kinky to me. That didn't bother me near as much as  the unnerving creak of the wooden support beams when I clumsily lifted and shifted myself into the swing.

As we began three words quickly came to mind: awkward, cumbersome and pathetic.

I felt compelled to frequently announce, "Whoa, I can't do this one". You know, to save appearances. Because I totally resemble someone completely capable of performing circus tricks gracefully and on command. I was slightly appeased by the gal behind me who would gasp a response, "Me either, Julie". At least I was not alone in my feebleness.

But, it was, after all, all in the name of my personal spring clean up. Just like the proverbial bear I have resurfaced from my winter slumber ready to take on the world. Well, okay, maybe just the near vicinity. Don't want to over extend myself anymore than the yoga swing already did. Every muscle in my body will gladly attest to that fact.

So, bring it on, spring. We're ready for ya. No, seriously. Any day now would be nice........

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