Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning I have committed myself to working out. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning I shimmy my thighs into a pair of spandex pants that squeeze the excess and make it look less excessive. And Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I stomp my unpedicured feet into my cushy gym shoes, grab my baby, and head out the door–Without drinking a cup of coffee.
Then I meet up with some bright and sunshiny girls with their babies and we start intensely walking up hills. I love intensely walking up hills, no really I do, I’m totally serious. Especially when my ass starts to burn a bit. I like to envision all the bad-for-me food I ate the day before is just melting off, does that make me weird?
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning, an hour after the endorphins leave me alone, after I take my cushy gym shoes off, and Berlyn settles in for a nap, I get a migraine. At first it starts off dull and pansy-assed. So I try to ignore it and drink loads of water to stave it off. But then it starts to peck at my temples, sinuses, jaw, and neck. And If I don’t take a 5 hour nap right then and there, I’m pretty much screwed for the rest of my day. I don’t think this is a fair trade. Maybe it’s my lack of caffeine in the morning, or perhaps my body is rejecting physical activity.
I’m starting to think I’m better off laying on the couch