Exercise

Cabin Fever!!

Okay, so. You all know that I live in SOLA (South Louisiana) and it’s usually a mild, semi-tropical climate where the seasons are: Hot, Hot-as-Balls, Football, and Mardi Gras.

Not so much this week. This week it’s been C.O.L.D.!!  We had sleet last Friday, then an okay weekend, followed by sleet & some snow ALL FREAKING DAY yesterday. I have basically been home/ off work since LAST FRIDAY. I went to work for a few hours (2&1/2) Saturday but haven’t been back since.

I am slowly losing my mind. For reals…  I have done ALL the laundry, save what we currently have on our bodies. I have baked a batch of muffins and a batch of scones. The house is clean. My kitchen is  currently spotless. I’ve even washed the dog beds for fucks sake!!

I looked at TWH last night and said “I can’t remember the last time I shampooed my hair”. (Since I color my hair, I don’t shampoo it every day. Every 2-3 days usually does it for me. Rinse & condition. That’s it. Judge me if you like.)

Anyway, I used to read these FB posts by SAHM’s blatantly stating that they couldn’t remember the last time they’d showered/shampooed their hair/shaved their legs/whatever and I would think “Eeeewwwwww….”. Being relatively sure I bathed every day when the kids were little. (I may not have, who the hell knows anymore) I totally get it now though. You’re home, you’re in your comfy clothes, you may or may not currently be wearing the same yoga pants/leggings you’ve been wearing for the past three days. IT DOESN’T MATTER.  Everyone is still whole and breathing and you haven’t left the house this week anyway.

Having said that, as soon as it gets above freezing, Imma lace up my running shoes and go burn off some of the calories I’ve consumed (Cabin fever eat-a-thon, yo!!) along with some of this excess energy.

THEN I’ll shampoo my hair.

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Sunday Funday

Okay, so.  Today the Fellas & I went out for a hike. It was a balmy 85 degrees and virtually no humidity. This is rare for South LA as we are Hell Adjacent. By the beginning of May most of us will have retreated into our houses and air conditioning. We get outside while we can.

Me on a rock in the creek. The brace is because my knees are 100.

My knee held up pretty well.  I was climbing up to leave one of the waterfalls and tweaked my OTHER knee. I gasped in shock and I swear, my first thought was “Oh HELL NO!!  I did NOT blow out my knee 4 days before SPQ weekend!!  My ass will be on crutches & driving a handi-cart!!” Turns out, it was fine, it just popped & wobbled.

TWH, TB & Me at one of the waterfalls.

We probably hiked 3& 1/2 to 4(ish) miles. TB didn’t even complain!!  If we weren’t living in a rain forest, we might do more of this stuff.

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The Octogenarian Athlete

Okay, so.  Yesterday while TWH & I were in Starcrack’s, we encountered the Octogenarian Athlete.  He passed by us as we waited for our coffees. I caught sight of him out of the corner of my eye and commented to TWH “Man, that’s a LOT of spandex”.  We got our coffees and were preparing to leave when it happened. I got a full frontal of the O.A.  Now, he wasn’t wearing JUST spandex. He was wearing spandex that HAD to be at least two sizes TOO SMALL.  I was rendered speechless. SPEECHLESS!!  Me: *squeak*    TWH: Go baby. He’s holding to door for us.  Me: *squeak*  TWH:  I know.  We get in the car and I look at TWH and exclaim: Oh my GAWD!!!  I can’t un-see THAT!!!  That was MY Nightmare Before Christmas!!  So, in honor of the awfulness of it all, I have decided to write the O.A. a letter…

Dear Octogenarian Athlete,

While I applaud your obvious commitment to exercise and health, I can NOT overlook the fact that you obviously picked up your Granddaughter’s spandex tights this morning as you were dressing for your day.  The image of your junk as you were (Bafflingly) willing to present it to the world snugged in spandex in fine detail.  I should never be able to determine if you, or any other male for that matter, are a “Grow-er” or a “Show-er” when you are fully dressed. Please, PLEASE for the love of all that is Good and Holy invest in a pair of shorts!! That way others can be spared the pain of having the image of your genitals seared into their brains the way they are into mine. Do it for the children, if nothing else.

Kisses,
Gin

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