Sunday, December 11, 2005

My Personal Trainer

Who knew having a child would also fullfill the need for a personal trainer?? AND fullfill the need to have a Golden Retreiver?

Saturday: wake up at 10:45. Get breakfast and coffee before my son, aka "my personal trainer", starts in on me. 12:15 tell son I will play football with him in 15 minutes. 12:29 head across the street to the Jr High. Argue with him about HOW football players warm up. Power walk around the baseball bases while son runs around the bases and instructs me how many times we're going to do this and where the bases are. Stretch out. Throw the football back and forth. I am told HOW to throw the football. My hands start to hurt. I stop trying to catch it and chase after it when it bounces all over the place. Move to the soccer field. Tell my son I will NOT play a one on one game on the entire field. Kick the football over the top of the soccer goal. ........until my foot hurts. Beg my son to go home. Walk UP the hill on the various trails made by jr high schoolers who apparently don't want to walk ALL the way to the stairs. Need food. Return home at 2:30. Get on bicycles and ride to Subway. Scarf down low calorie food. Ride home...........the long way. Collapse onto couch.

Sunday: wake at 9:45. Eat and drink and watch TV. 12:45 call a friend. 12:50 "my personal trainer" starts in on me. Give him the don't-you-dare-talk-to-me-while-I'm-on-the-phone look, and put my index finger to my lips in the most threatening way possible. Continue doing that for the next 30 minutes. Say goodbye to my friend. Get dressed slowly. 1:30 head out on our bikes to the Jr. High. Ride down BIG hills and pretend we're hardcore off-road bicyclists. Ride around the track. Race around the track. Breathe hard. Beg to go home. Ride up and down more hills. Argue about how much time we've been riding. Stand, stretch, wait. 2:15 go home. Tell my son 45 minutes is a good amount of time for hard riding. Look at garage and decide I can't take one more second of it's state-of-disaster. Son goes to rest. Spend the next TWO hours moving shit around, throwing stuff away, opening up boxes, reading old letters and cards, and FINALLY sweeping a pathway through the garage. Shower! Start bath so I can sit in burning hot water to comfort my trembling muscles. Yell for Wayne to join me. Play football with action figures in bath with son and manage to get his hair washed. Get out, make one dinner for him and another one for me. Eat low calorie meal. Get out of Xmas tree decorating 'cause trunk is too big for stand. Set up train. Watch train go around and around. Watch son run around and around, racing the train. 9pm put son to bed. LOOK at clean laundry covering my bed and dirty laundry overflowing the hamper. Retreat to smoking lounge. Sit on comfy couch under feather blankie and turn on computer. Read emails, blogs, flickr. Blog.

Be THANKFUL my personal trainer is going to school tomorrow and I am NOT going anywhere. I think I'll skip the gym tomorrow.

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