It’s no secret to those who know me that I love working out in some capacity or another. I was even once the recipient of the ‘exercise junkie’ award at work (most definitely notable). It could be running, yoga or weights but the majority of the time, I am found in our basement, blasting the tunes and completing short, high intensity workouts using intervals of various body weight exercises. I love them. I feel like a cross between wonder woman and a bad ass karate chick. Even more so if I am sporting new workout gear, which as a matter of fact, I was yesterday!
So there I was decked out in my new black pants (which were NOT black capris for once, thanks to my dear husband), down in the basement, busting out my moves when….I felt the pang. You know the one, right? Where there is a twinge of pain in your lower back that you think might not be good. But you’re superwoman/bad ass karate chick, so keep going! Can’t you hear Jay-Z, Maroon 5 and the Biebs (don’t judge) rooting for you? C’mon, move that booty! The more I continued, the harder it got until I couldn’t do it any more. I died. On the floor. Right when Alicia Keys was singing ‘Girl on Fire’ to me. Damn.
I spent the better part of Thursday trying to make an appointment with the Chiropractor. I wonder how many other wonder woman/bad ass karate chicks phone her, pleading to come in NOW. RIGHT NOW. Please?
By the time you read this, I will be laid out on her table. I will let her poke me, crack me. Hell, if she wants to perform amputation of a limb to make me feel better? I will oblige. You go girl.
I had grand plans of striking a wonder woman/bad ass karate chick pose to show off my new pants to you. Instead, this is what you’re getting:
Damn girl, stop crying and get up! Like my Lulu’s? They’re awesome! I love them.
For the record, they are Studio Pant II