misery be thy name

my body hates me right now.

i've put on a good 15 pounds in the last couple of months. how is that even possible, right? i blame the holidays...and by holidays i mean taco bell and my new found love for their cheesy gordita crunch.

so, needless to say i'm on another health kick. short-lived, i'm sure.

i've actually started to get pretty dead serious about eating healthy, though...and by dead serious i mean i picked up a few things from fresh and easy. that is where all of the healthy i-puree-my-own-baby-food moms shop, right? good. i now have a kitchen full of organic groceries that are due to expire by the end of the day. who needs those silly little things called preservatives anyways.

and going along with my new ultra-healthy lifestyle, i've also decided to start training for a marathon.

no, no. that's a lie. i'll leave that kind of ambition to the rest of the suburbia housewives. it seems like everyone i know is either training for or has just completed some kind of marathon-half-triathlon thingy...and by know i really mean complete strangers who's blogs i've read. who has that kind of drive? or time, for that matter? good for you, girls. you just made becoming the average super-mom even further out of reach.

and even though a 26+ mile race isn't my idea of sane, i am trying to pick up running again...and by running i mean a speed walk that occasionally turns into a slow jog. i do what i can.

oh, and i did try my very best at an aerobics class the other day (do they even call them that anymore or is that very 1985 "lets get physical" of me?), which is now the reason for my pain and misery.

it hurts. hurts to walk. hurts to stand. it hurts just sitting still.

those classes should really come with some kind of warning or consent form. i had no idea of the kind of discomfort i'd be putting myself through...and by discomfort i mean a burning fire from hell shooting up my thighs and out my back. thank you, step & sculpt. you not only fooled me into planting my fat butt front row center, but you also made a fool of me when women twice my age could keep up with your unceasing death squats better than i could. i bid you farewell, step & sculpt. until we meet again...