I canceled my oil change appointment this morning because my car wouldn’t start. Oh, the irony. Joe came home to try to jump it, but to no avail. Yesterday I told Joe how much it would suck if my car broke down. Again with the irony. Oh well. We’ll get it figured out. I should be using my lack of transportation to my advantage by working on the fifty million projects I have started. Instead I used it to vacuum and watch a rerun of Home Improvement while I whined to the cat about going to PT today.
Joe and I have been running about three or four days a week – sometimes five if we can’t come up with a good enough excuse to skip. We mixed in a little strength training and had ourselves a nice little workout routine. But, Joe failed his fitness test by ten points so now he has to work out with his squadron five days a week. I am now kicking myself for telling him before we were married that I would willingly work out with him every day. I’m kicking myself even more after he told me what this will entail.
Today is circuit training. Run for five minutes. Do push-ups. Run for five minutes. Do sit-ups. Run for five minutes. Do something else that’s torturous. Run for five minutes. Collapse from a heart attack. Or something.
Tomorrow is a mock PT test. Run 1.5 miles as fast as you can. Do as many sit-ups and push-ups as you can. Oh, joyfulness.
I’m actually kind of looking forward to it. Kind of. We’re doing a competition with our friends to see who can lose the most body fat. They’re doing P90X and so far they’re achieving amazing results. I think if I didn’t have to work out every day I probably wouldn’t, so it’s nice to have a challenge. It’s so much more fun to eat candy and stalk people on Facebook for an hour than it is to come inches from a breathless death for an hour.
Anyway. I’ll let you know if I survive or not.
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