I've interrupted my regularly scheduled blogging routine by enrolling in a six week fitness boot camp. I didn't want to tell you until I actually made myself go to the first session, because there is nothing I dislike more (besides W., corporatocracy, boy bands and mustard) than saying I am going to do something and then not doing it.
So instead of quietly creeping out pre-dawn to my darkened living room, making coffee and unfolding my laptop on the couch in the dark I am getting dressed and running around a park silently comparing my fitness levels to those around me.
This quietly competitive streak is entirely self-contained and somewhat uncontrollable. I can't be last to finish, I must do the sit ups until the bitter end even if I haven't done a sit up in two years. I found myself safely ensconced in the mid-fitness category today, others who kicked more ass and others who couldn't kick much which is enough to satisfy this latent streak of mine and force me to return. But for those of you who drop by regularly for an early morning waxing and shine, you might find my vibe off a bit until I've figured out where I get another free waking hour that doesn't include apple juice, toilet training, homeless people or now, push ups.
But let's hear it for the push ups, people.