The temperature has reached the low 90's here in my ville. In accordance with my usual program, I am determined to wait until June 1 to turn on the air conditioner in my house. Last year I did not meet that goal, because I was going through chemotherapy, and I was all, "Hot and nauseated? Forgizzle." But it's back on, honey. Of course, Matt has a window unit tucked in the office where he (and three other guys) work, and Hank has a window unit up in his bedroom, so is this cheating? I don't know. I am making my own rules.
Today Pretty Neighbor and I resumed our workouts in her basement, after a four week break. We'd paused our routine for me to have my reconstructive surgery. Two weeks ago, the plastic surgeon told me I could go ahead and ease back in to exercise, so I eased back in by spending another two weeks doing completely nothing. Unless reading House Beautiful now counts as exercise, or playing Lego Pirates of the Caribbean with Hank. Or going to the mountains and eating three s'mores.
Three is too many, friends. S'mores are like cocktails. One is the right number. Two is okay but three is, like, let's talk about the choices you're making right now.
And you know what? My energy level took a hit from the no exercising. So many reasons to start up again, so today we did, back at level one of Jillian Michaels's Ripped in 30 Days. Oh goodness I was dreading the first day back, but I got through the workout and only said "OH DAMN HELL" a few times. At the end I lay on the floor of Pretty Neighbor's basement, and I knew my face was absolutely vermillion. Hank asked if he could help me get up. I looked like I'd been lightly broasted, then dragged backwards through an automatic carwash.
Oh well, soreness awaits, tomorrow, as well as another workout. You got to use it or lose it in this life.
Speaking of which, tonight on Facetime chat I asked my sister if she is still going to Zumba and if the instructor had laughed at her again. She said that the other night she'd been trying to master a particularly tricky dance move, and the instructor had smiled at her and said, "It's okay, just jump." OH DAMN HELL, no she didn't!
Are y'all doing okay?