Anyercise

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I have since made it my mission to get in at least 30 minutes of a fast-paced anyercise in the day. As the name suggests, it’s any ol’ sweat mongering routine that will, well, monger sweat(?) and at any ol’ time because let’s face it, if I knew what discipline was, we’d be in...

Ready?! OKAY! GOOOOOOO no sorry, I can’t keep up the fake cheerleader. Thought I could, at least to the end of the comment on it’s obvious sarcasm, but no such luck.

So I’d like also to have come up with a good enough excuse as to why this post is spectacularly late? Even thought I’d play my “darn-that-pesky-M.S-memory! *Upward nodding and eye rolling tut* ” card but truth is, I honestly just forgot I’d passed the Tuesday. Don’t gimme that look, you’ve all done it! Yes, even YOU Susan from Accounting…(especially you…still trying to pass that beach house off as “overtime”…)

I have since made it my mission to get in at least 30 minutes of a fast-paced anyercise in the day. As the name suggests, it’s any ol’ sweat mongering routine that will, well, monger sweat(?) and at any ol’ time because let’s face it, if I knew what discipline was, we’d be in Susan’s beach house wouldn’t we?

Anyway, the anyercise was tricky to begin with. By “tricky”, I mean Dante’s fourth circle of hell, and by “to begin with” I’m talking the slow march of Fat Reaper that started a few years back when I originally began this bid. My ligaments seemed to perform what I can only describe as The Dough-bot given their unyielding stifficity and their resolve to remain covered in their cushioning? My lungs of course took a dip in to the sixth circle, which made sure I was well and truly breathing fire. So pushing through this initial stage was…hmmmm….let’s just go with “difficult” this time?

BUT, I have noticed some good things to come of this trek through the abattoir of the soul! Yes, you did indeed read that correctly people, I see some good(?)! I found that the stubbornness of pushing myself made me WANT to feel the clichéd burn. Found myself worrying less about the numbers on the scale and more on my ability to get my behind to stop jiggling? Handy that given the numbers have only reduced by 1, but as I’m ignoring that, and the fact that my oldest friend has managed to shift 6 numbers in the same amount of time the cocky nonchalant pain in the ass- no it’s not bothering me at all, everybody mentally throws their bestie over a Dover cliff when they smile and say a barely audible well done under the wheeze of charged lungs through a sweat stache , I feel good!

Roll on Saturday! No, wait, what day are we on? Seriously need to remember to stay hydrated, I was so sure I’d put the chicken in the oven and my feet in my slippers earlier.?.

Mrs. Tea

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