My day

Yesterday, I initiated my work-out plan for the summer. This plan includes a return to yoga and regular 3-mile walks on the treadmill. I've decided to try the morning yoga classes at my gym. The gym folks moved the evening classes to 7PM and I just can't figure out the eating. Do I eat my dinner before I go, trusting that I won't yak on my mat as we rock back and forth on our stomachs? Or do I eat dinner at 9PM, trusting that I won't have heartburn that could kill a horse? Turns out, I'm not capable of solving this problem. So, 10:30AM it is. I figured that I can get some work done, don my yoga attire, work out, and return home to shower and eat lunch, seamlessly returning to work in the afternoon. Perfect.

Except that my back is not a morning back. I made this discovery after yoga yesterday. My back started to complain when I got home. I think it was the rocking back and forth (think turtle on its back). Anyway, the pain didn't go away as I ran errands yesterday afternoon (savvy readers will note that I did not seamlessly return to work). By late afternoon, I was lying flat on my back on the couch, heating pad in place, and taking pain meds.

Later in the evening, I watched the first half of the Top Chef season finale. I can't believe they sent Antonia home and kept Lisa! The only reason Lisa has gotten this far is because she's managed to suck a little less than at least one other person in every challenge. The fact that Antonia went home for undercooking beans is yet another reason to believe that beans are, in fact, the source of all evil. I hope Stephanie and Richard wipe the floor with Lisa.

As I continued my litany of "What the hell?", I glanced over to the arm of my couch. Seeing my heating pad and pain meds, I wondered when I had turned 80. Then, I took my tired, sore, old body to bed.