Of Exercising, Soreness, and Evil Mothers

So. As I am the kind of person who tries to keep her promises and ummm, resolutions, I went out and bought a workout tape. I also have a membership at the Y, but it rains a lot in winter here, and I just knew that my lazy ass was going to use the rain as an excuse not to exercise. Since it rained this weekend, I have been doing the tape. And let me just say this: I am out of shape, but I am nowhere near the most out of shape person in the world. I can run and jump and whatever. I do not weight 200 lbs. This should be easy, right? Wrong.

I am so sore this morning that I can hardly move. My body just hurts in places that I didn't know that it could hurt. Even laying down hurts. Oh, dear Lord, it sucks. I want to cry. Just sit down and cry. And eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

But I can't even do that. I can't have any sugar (or sugar substitute) for 10 days. Which doesn't sound too bad, but it's about to kill me. I can't even eat fruit. Oh dear lord, but it sucks.

So I call my lovely mother, who tells me "Well, the best thing you can do is exercise more. Stretching will take the soreness out." To which I say a lot of things that no one should really say to their mother. My mom just laughs. Laughs. She, a woman who goes to the gym everyday, and even uses the proximity to a gym as an influential part of the house-buying process, laughs.

But I avow to suffer through. I will stretch and move and do whatever. Because when Matt and I go to SoCal this summer for our vacation, I want to be hot. Hotter than hot. Smoldering. So pass me those 11 almonds that I get for a snack today. I'll make do.

By the way, my birthday is in two days. And that rocks. Plus, my sweet husband has decided that in lieu of buying me a gift, he is just giving me free reign on the Amex to go to San Francisco for the day and buy my own presents. I couldn't be happier. With any luck, by that day I should be able to walk without grimacing.