Thursday, November 09, 2006
Fitness schmitness
I am so fucking out of shape. You may not know it to look at me. I'm a petite woman (read: midget-like) and have never really been overweight. Except maybe in college when I didn't seem to get that I could no longer drink a six-pack of Coke daily and live off of cheese fries and bad keg beer without consequences, since I was no longer playing sports year round. I even lost some weight recently due to some shitty things going on in my life. Who knew that emotional stress could curb my always ravenous appetite? Now that my world view is a little rosier, I have managed to keep the weight off and am actually quite happy with my size.

But, my God, other than walking our dogs, I don't get any exercise. I've always been athletic. Played soccer, volleyball, and swam when I was in high school. More soccer in college and I've even run two marathons, though let me issue a huge caveat here: I hate to run, I'm an incredibly slow runner, and the only reason I ran the damn things was to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Oh, and the fact that the first one was in Bermuda and the second was in Alaska. That definitely helped too. I think because I have a pretty solid history of being active, I figure that I have somehow magically retained some base level of fitness. But I was recently proven very, very wrong.

My husband (who has been an accomplished athlete all his life and is in sickeningly good shape, seemingly without trying - bastard) has been playing IM sports with his graduate program and asked me if I wanted to play indoor soccer with them. I was pretty excited, as I haven't played soccer in over a year and I love indoor. But, holee shit. I played for five minutes and thought I was going into cardiac arrest. Seriously, I came off the court and saw stars briefly. So, so sad.

Working at home does wierd things to your schedule. On one hand, you have more time. You can do laundry and run errands in between bursts of working. You can walk the dogs at 10:00, or 2:00 or 4:00. But, when you're like me (read: slightly ADD, with grand plans of all I will accomplish every day, only to be sorely disappointed when it's 5:00 pm, I've only done 3 hours of work, done NOTHING around the house and am still wearing my pajamas), it is hard to get in a real schedule. I've really been trying lately. Trying to fit in work, house stuff, time with my husband and my dogs, and staying at least a little bit organized. But, holy hell, I think it's time to add some freakin' exercise to the list. I strained a hamstring walking the dogs yesterday. People, that's pathetic. I'll keep you posted. If I've worked out once at the end of next week it will be a miracle. See? Expect the worst, hope for the best. My motto for life.



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