Walking the Plank

Even though I was beyond tired yesterday and head a headache, I went to the gym anyway. I seriously needed some endorphins to pep me up after a particularly bad day at work.

Tread & Shed was an especially sweaty endeavor. The treadmill part is bad enough, but Shannon also has us hop off to engage in other torturous activities. My legs turned to Jell-o when I heard her utter those two evil words: Mountain climbers. I don't know what kind of sadistic person invented this move, but I'm pretty sure they also club baby seals for fun. If you're a woman with huge boobs, such as myself, there is no pretty way to do a mountain climber. I felt like my goodies were on display at every angle. My boobs are hanging out in the front, my shirt was flying up around my neck, and my butt is jiggling in the air. I think everyone at the gym is on a first name basis with my lady lumps.



After the mountain climbers, we did planks. But instead of having you rest on your forearms, you were in like a push-up position. We had to hold it for a minute. My arms started to get seriously shaky by the end, but I held on. I was kind of proud of myself for that. It made my hands and wrists hurt though. And I can't think too much about all the things that have been on that gym floor where I was touching.

I added a nifty new link at the bottom of my posts to make it easier for people to share my blog with others. I loooove reading everyone's comments. Sometimes I feel like no one reads at all and I wonder why I bother since I don't get much feedback. So, attention lurkers: If I know you and you're not commenting, you've got some 'splainin to do!! If I sort of know you, please don't be shy. And if I don't know you, hey that's fine too. Thanks for reading. :)