In other television news. I'm watching Martha right now, as I do most nights at 6. She made mixed drinks with Megan Mullally. One of the reasons I watch Martha is because I think it's so funny how excited she gets about liquor, particularly vodka. So they made their drinks and drank them. Then Martha moved on to a segment about using sea glass and ceramic tiles in a mosaic tabletop. I'm pretty sure she was a little drunk. Seriously. Megan, if you missed it this morning, TLC, 6 pm. Hilarious. Best show ever.
One of the many perks of the new job is access to a big, huge, brand new pool. Rock. I finally made use of it today. It turns out that I am really fucking out of shape. I nearly drowned. Not really, but I was struggling. I feel so old. I've been running semi-regularly (okay, not really, but the two miles I did on Saturday were fairly cake) and power yoga more regularly, so I'm not at my most sluglike (though the television play-by-plays might make you think otherwise). And swimming has always been my cheat. Running=hard, swimming=easy. Sigh. Not so today. I was sore the second I got out of the pool. Sore! From swimming! Then I was all, "But I used to be so *good* at this! What happened?" Yeah. Apparently six years happened. It's been six years since I've been swimming for anything other than recreation.
When I got back from studying abroad in England, along with twenty pounds of Cadbury's chocolate smuggled past customs as ashleyfat, I hauled my ass out of bed at 6 am to go swim everyday. 6 am! In college! And I loved it. I can't believe it's taken me this long to get back in a pool.
Mark my words. Six weeks and this will be me:
Obviously I'll be the short one with dark hair. Only with fewer Detroit arrests for possession of cocaine. That's not how I roll.
1 comment:
Man, you guys put me to shame... I finally went to the gym on Saturday (the first time in a month) and was sore the next day. I was only there for 30 minutes.
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