Year of Writing 158.

6/7/12

I have decided to do the 100 burpee challenge, again.  I'm on number 35 today, and I totally hate exercising.  For one thing, I continually hear "Eye of the Tiger" in my head while I do it, and for another, I am totally a wimp when it comes to pushing myself physically.  When it starts to hurt, I kind of figure my body is telling me something, like "stop making yourself hurt, bro."  So I usually stop.  This has never been a problem in my life until I developed the sympathy belly when my daughter was born, now if I don't make myself hurt a little bit, I kind of look like somebody tried to force an orange through a straw and quit halfway.  It's not cute.  So here I am, blustering and cussing my way through 35 military style up downs, separated by stints on an honest to goodness ab-roller.  It's not like I'm asking for sympathy or anything like that, but if I don't get a medal or at least some kind of trophy at the end of this, I'm gonna cry.  Mark my words.