Step aerobics = DeathSoooooo, today I turned the air conditioner down to somewhere around 14 degrees, got a ginormic glass of water, and readied myself to step up and down for 45 minutes. Up and down, up and down, up and down, check pulse, up and down, up and down, up and down, get water, up and down, up and down, up and down, tell children you love them and call coroner. All that upping and downing and the scenery never changes...kind of like the Daytona 500 - if I'm driving that many miles I'd better cross the finish line in another state.
Anyhoo, I am doing my thing on my trusty aerobic step and I do everything that Kathy Smith is doing yet she is still able to connect words together and form complete sentences that I can understand. I mean, not that I could hear her over the sound of my own gasping. Darth Vader would have offered me an inhaler. I get around minute infinity and over in the corner is none other than the Grim Reaper himself. Checking his watch. He's so pushy.
I got through my 45 minutes of self-torture, Grim left saying something about "next time", and I went to take a shower because I smelled like a barn. A crowded barn. An OVER-crowded barn.
I would have typed this blog before my shower but I was scared all of the sweat would short out my keyboard. Now I'm Zestfully clean! And deodorized.
Now I get to do it all again tomorrow.