Conversation with my thighs.
This morning, my thighs and I had a brief conversation.
Hey, Laurel?
Yeah, thighs.
WTF is going on here?
What are you talking about?
Yesterday morning, you drag us into the gym, put us on the elliptical for eighteen friggin' minutes, and then sit on the leg machines for an additional 20. Today you drag us out of bed at 6am when we specifically told you we were sleeping in until 7, and you stick us on that friggin' elliptical for another twenty minutes. What the hell is wrong with you?
I'm afraid I don't understand the issue here.
Who the hell are you? You're not the same girl we've carried around for almost 30 years! What happened to the chick who was more than happy to spend her evenings playing WoW and shooting up neighborhoods on the Xbox? We demand that girl back!
Look, you whiny little bastards, I'm dealing with a myriad of different muscle groups who all have a beef with me right now, and I'll tell you what I told them - get used to it, because this isn't changing any time soon.
My thighs then went on strike. I've been shuffling around since about 7:45, primarily using my calves to get about. I'm hoping they decide to work again by the time I go to lunch. Right now, my entire body is subtly encourage me to spread eagle and nap on the floor for about four hours. I could really use one of them thar massages xinu was talking about. This does, however, mean I've reached my January fitness goal of doing 20 minutes on the elliptical at one time. Go me!