…and not the Fergilicious kind. I know I haven’t posted about working out lately, but I have been going to the gym most weeks, at least twice a week, for a cycling class and a kickboxing class. Last week I left kickboxing feeling like someone punched me square in each butt cheek, and felt that way for about two days after. This week, I am hobbling around like an elderly woman because my quads are on fire. I appreciate that it is a good pain, but it makes walking stairs almost unbearable. And since I’m leaving for Chicago on Saturday and have the day off tomorrow, I was all packed up like I was moving out. I had THAT FEELING and said to myself in my mind “I hope I don’t fall down the stairs.” Well, one step and that was it, my laptop, my gym bag, a tote bag full of work, my purse and me went tumbling down. I held on to the railing as much as I could so I didn’t DIE.
My ego was bruised more than anything. Well, except maybe my ankle.
Andrea Unplugged 