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So there I was, face down on carpet that smells suspiciously like dog (going to have to  talk to Iris the Wonder Wiener about that) arms cramping, laughing so hard I can’t breathe and my 16yr old daughter…for the purposes of this blog, Satan…is sitting cross ways in the chair, filing her damn nails!  Yes!  FILING her nails!, imitating the old SNL skit with Dana Carvey and Kevin Nelon as Schwarzenegger-esque body builders , “Don’t be such a girly man!  Ten more!”  Bitch!

girly man

The thing is, I am a “girly man” when it comes to this.  Fourteen months ago I began the journey to live longer, healthier and happier by having weight loss surgery, gastric sleeve.  I’ve lost between 100 and 105 lbs, depending on the week and have been in this 5lb yo-yo for about 2 months.  EIGHT months ago I was given the green light to begin exercising.   Twenty-four hours ago, I actually began.  Foolishly enlisting Coach Ratchet aka Satan aka ThePetiteKB to help with motivation.

The trainer I saw through my surgeon said “push ups are the best thing, you work every part. Even “girl” push-ups count.”  So I negotiated 30 girlies with “Coach”.  Three sets of ten.  HOLY CRAP!  Remember that scene above, with my face in dog carpet???  That was after the first set.  Arms shaking, being mocked by the fruit of my loins (The elder fruit was mercifully working on college scholarship applications with headphones on.) I could go no further.

I had to declare today a hat day because it was impossible to hold my arms up long enough to actually do my hair.

However….because every good tale has an however….I man up and try again tonight!  Dog carpet and all.  Eldest fruit will, no doubt be as kind and understanding. *eye roll*