ow. my ass.


back to pilates last night after a two+ week hiatus.

did an equipment class, which the sadomasochist in me just lluuuurrrvves. It's kinda like gymnastic class without the risk of breaking your neck. Which for little-miss-uncoordinated is really the only gymnastic option. The instructor is knowledgable, patient, and he's totally on to me...he does not let me cheat. Part of me loves that about him. The other part wants to hobble out of class and put sugar in his gas tank.

B, my buddy from work, invited me along to a class this spring, and now I'm totally hooked. She is my dealah. I feel taller and skinnier after class. How much so? Enough to totally eat that WHOLE ENTIRE (cheeseburger & fries/sundae/box o' candy/all of the above) with no regrets. It's like crack without the spoon, kiddies.

This morning, trying to get out of bed, I'm reminded that not only does pilates work your abs, it works a whole mess of other muscles. All of which are screaming bloody murder at me for the unfortunate combo of 2 weeks of inactivity + a kick-ass class.

Going to a benefit tonight for this organization. Created in honor of a sister of one of Hubby's grad school classmates, it's a great cause with a truly terrible story behind it. It's a cause we are truly happy to support, in the hope that we can empower someone feeling powerless.

(I just hope I can get my ass off the couch before we leave. I don't know that the couch will fit into the coupe...)

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