I squeezed in a few miles at lunch today – I’ve only got 12 days until my next Half and don’t want to suck this time. (Operation Jack in Manhattan Beach – there’s a satellite option if you’re not in SoCal and are looking for a way to run off the Christmas cookies)
My coworkers have learned to appreciate my mid-day pavement pounding. Of course they all sit like 40 feet away and can shut my door if I’m fuming the confines…
At least I change out of my running clothes – or at least throw a work-issued fleece over top.
See, HR?? I read your latest newsletter on the dress code. Please don’t write me up.
I mean really, a running skirt? They could’ve been a LITTLE more subtle.
Anyway I had to get the miles in early because I’m going to a Xtend Barre class tonight with a friend, and I’m worried I won’t have functionality in any of my muscles for the next 10 years.
It looks fun – I dig yoga and believe it or not used to dance as a kid. My white girl dance moves won’t convince you, but my mean pirouette and front handspring will…
Are you sick of seeing my tutu? Sorry. (not really)
But she pinky promised me I’d leave class looking exactly like a less-anorexic Mila Kunis from Black Swan (isn’t that what you said?), so I’ll give it a shot. What do I have to lose other than my last race of 2011??
Anyways now y’all know where to send hate mail and the police if I do end up dying tonight.