Last night I went to Happy Hour with three of my triathlon friends and my coach. Two of these ladies are training for Tempe this year, and one is about to start training having just now recovered from foot surgery. Seven weeks of training for a full ironman!!! She is ballsy! Although she doesn’t smell ballsy, which I am not sure why I felt the need to clarify, but suffice it to say she smells awesome.

But I digress…So Sho and her minions are on this weird Crossfit/paleo challenge that is like 50 plus days of workouts and no vodka. What the hell? She is tiny, but buff. It’s like all the people around me are wasting away to paleo nothingness! Whereas me? Well, I suffered a severe golf related back injury three weeks ago, and my exercise is limited to walking and biking in pain. Bring on the liquor and pastries.

Sho once told me “Look, you are an endurance athlete. Endurance athletes get hurt. You just got to suck it up and not hurt yourself more.” Now, she said this after she broke her vagina doing Pike’s Peak Marathon (no, seriously, she broke her vagina). She was down from her usual performance for almost a year!

A year? three weeks is KILLING ME! I am such an endorphin addict, this is sending me into a depression. I recognized this last night when Kristy said “yeah, I only skimmed your blog. You are supposed to be funny.”

WTH? You skimmed my blog???No No No…I’m not required to be funny, young lady. It’s still over 90, I’m peri menapausal, I can’t work out because i hurt myself playing the least stressful sport in the world, and I’m fat!!!!! I don’t have to be funny!! I get to each wings and drink vodka and LAUGH at you people doing the nine hour bricks! HAHAHAHAHAH! Bring me a twinkie….NOW!

So because I am fat and depressed, I decided to do what any normal woman having self esteem issues would do- go pants shopping. Yep, I wanted to pour that salt into the wound. Could have only been better if I had enchiladas and THEN went pants shopping.

Well guess what? I’ve lost weight!!!!! Yeah Yeah, it’s probably muscle. Suffice it to say my ability to get into some reasonably sized black straight legged jeans gave me enough confidence last night to drink 5 vodka sodas, eat a plate of wangs (still missing the all important 4th wang) and skip my walk this morning. Yes!

So to the gym with me, I say. And since you aren’t injured, why don’t you do the same chunky nation. Cause I’m thinking it’s time for another Ironman. Whos in?

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