Wednesday, March 25, 2009
dj jazzy me and the fresh biscuit
An object in motion tends to stay in motion.
An object sitting on its butt in front of the laptop tends to stay in front of the laptop waiting for shoes to show up on www.mamabargains.com and hoping for Etsy sales.
This lesson in physics, at which I do not excel because Dr. Crog was in my class and we doodled and flirted the whole time, is just another good reason why i'm back on the exercise wagon.
Today, I joined Jazzercise.
Yes, Jazzercise. It's not just for old ladies in leotards. Or anybody in leotards, really.
Laugh, if you want to. Doesn't bother me. I see a chance to take a daily dancercise class 2 miles from my house with mother-staffed childcare, and I freakin' take it. I miss the gym. So much.
Okay, honestly, I don't miss the gym. I miss the way I feel *after* the gym, and I miss having tizzight arms. Because right now, i've got a bad case of "hi, marge". It works like this. You see your friend, you wave, you say, "Hi, Marge!" and that thing jiggles.
Yeah, that little jiggle at the bottom drives me crazy.
There are several other reasons to exercise, or in my case, Jazzercise.
1. Look and feel better. Duh.
2. Stay healthy.
3. Do frantic skipping motions to Beyonce songs.
4. Let the Biscuit plague someone else during her late-afternoon frenzy.
5. Give those poor, neglected New Balances something to do.
6. Benefit from the energy spike that makes me want to come home and vacuum.
7. Be able to breathe without splitting the bum of my prepregnancy jeans.
Number 2 is the highest priority right now, because we found out today that my paternal grandfather has prostate cancer. In addition to his colon cancer. My mom tells me it's no big deal, but i'm pretty sure that CANCER is BAD. Not only for my poor Papa, but for my father, me, and my children, who inherited Papa's genes. I want to do everything in my power to set a positive and healthy example for my children and to be around to annoy them as long as possible.
My father refuses to go to the doctor, which drives me insane. How do you make a 6'2'' monster go to the doctor for the first time since 1972? Valium and a tow truck is thus far my top idea.
Anyway. I want my children to grow up thinking of exercise and healthy eating as basic parts of life, so even though I hate working out, I'm doing it.
So far, it's working. Look at those little bitty guns!