I'll Huff and I'll Puff...
I'll huff and I'll puff...
..after trying to run for 2 minutes. At the urging of my roommate, who seems to think exercise is such a wonderful way to spend spare time, I donned my runnings shoes, sweat pants, and band-aided my man boobs, so the sweaty shirt wouldn't rub the sensitive parts raw, and put on a dock workers cap so my ears didn't get chilled. I'd have preferred to take a nap, actually I had already snoozed for a few hours before he got home, but another nap is NEVER out of the question. We open the garage door and there in front of the house are a bunch of construction workers changing a tire. It was exactly like they were working. There were 10 of them standing around watching 1 guy work on the tire. Anyway, we start stretching, and I can't help but crack up when I'm stretching because I think it looks so staged, though I know it's necessary. Pulling arms behind your back, pulling legs behind your back, trying to balance while standing on one foot, putting one leg out to the side while bending your other knee. So off we go, and I'm movin' groovin' and runnin' all stupid until I actually start to feel the burn in my emaciated lungs. The sweat starts pouring, I start huffin' and puffin' like an asthmatic in a dust storm, I look at my roommate and he's all like NOT sweating, NOT huffin', and NOT puffin'. Eventually I got my second wind and was able to keep up. Towards the end of the run, which was maybe 2 miles, my stomach starts squirting acid up my esophagus. All I can think of is Zantac, then we pass Eastern Piazza Court, and I'm getting dizzy, so I think it says Pizza Court....now I want a big greasy pepperoni pizza with Parmesan Zantac sprinkled on top...mmmmmmm. Nearly 1/2 an hour later, after my beet red face fades to a healthy pink sunburnt look, I feel good. Not just good like I drank 5 beers, or 3 vodkas, but really good. Like MAN-I'M-GLAD-THAT'S-OVER-WITH good. Tonight I may just take a long nap, eat pizza, drink beer, and appreciate having man boobs and a beer belly. Oh wait! What should I have for dessert?
..after trying to run for 2 minutes. At the urging of my roommate, who seems to think exercise is such a wonderful way to spend spare time, I donned my runnings shoes, sweat pants, and band-aided my man boobs, so the sweaty shirt wouldn't rub the sensitive parts raw, and put on a dock workers cap so my ears didn't get chilled. I'd have preferred to take a nap, actually I had already snoozed for a few hours before he got home, but another nap is NEVER out of the question. We open the garage door and there in front of the house are a bunch of construction workers changing a tire. It was exactly like they were working. There were 10 of them standing around watching 1 guy work on the tire. Anyway, we start stretching, and I can't help but crack up when I'm stretching because I think it looks so staged, though I know it's necessary. Pulling arms behind your back, pulling legs behind your back, trying to balance while standing on one foot, putting one leg out to the side while bending your other knee. So off we go, and I'm movin' groovin' and runnin' all stupid until I actually start to feel the burn in my emaciated lungs. The sweat starts pouring, I start huffin' and puffin' like an asthmatic in a dust storm, I look at my roommate and he's all like NOT sweating, NOT huffin', and NOT puffin'. Eventually I got my second wind and was able to keep up. Towards the end of the run, which was maybe 2 miles, my stomach starts squirting acid up my esophagus. All I can think of is Zantac, then we pass Eastern Piazza Court, and I'm getting dizzy, so I think it says Pizza Court....now I want a big greasy pepperoni pizza with Parmesan Zantac sprinkled on top...mmmmmmm. Nearly 1/2 an hour later, after my beet red face fades to a healthy pink sunburnt look, I feel good. Not just good like I drank 5 beers, or 3 vodkas, but really good. Like MAN-I'M-GLAD-THAT'S-OVER-WITH good. Tonight I may just take a long nap, eat pizza, drink beer, and appreciate having man boobs and a beer belly. Oh wait! What should I have for dessert?
posted by SirTalksALot at 2/16/2005 10:41:00 AM
12 Comments:
all i have to say is 'owwwwwwwwwwww!!!' at removing the nipple bandaids!!!!
Dawn
webmiztris.diaryland.com
Webmiztris - Nawww, it wasn't TOO painful because the sweat loosens the glue a bit. The tiny bit'o'pain now, is SO much better than putting up with the stinging that would have come from them being rubbed raw!
And that is why I'm in a drinking club with a running problem! They reward physical activity with mass quantities of beer.
Boozie - How can I get into that club!!?? What's the initiation?
Is that similar to a 12 -Step program for a drinking problem? It's 12 steps to the bar so I can start drinking any more distance than that is a problem!
Kristine - That is one of many an indulgent theme governing my life. GOOD TIMES! :)
I still say, "Ouch!!", you crazy masochist. ;)
Scorpy - "Holy" huff and puff is right! Only by the grace of God I didn't pass out and die!
Webmiztris - One time I taped them down cuz I was out of band-aids! THAT was pain!
Julie - Do they sell slices of success at the Cheesecake Factory? GIMME SWEETS!
Becky - I do have a hairy chest too! So far it's been a crowd pleaser at the circus.
please say it wasn't duct tape. ;)
Webmiztris - It wasn't duct tape...it was that clear tape you put moving boxes together with. I thought it would be neat to see what a tapped up man boob looks like. It was totally rad!
;p
you silly man.
How many construction workers does it take...(insert funny here)
Am I really the first one to comment on this?
Mysti - No problem! Webmiz cracks me up too! And the best band-aids to reduce raw nippies are the little round ones, but if that doesn't work then any old band-aid will do. Hmm, I might try runnning again this weekend, if I survive, I'll send ya some burnt calories ;)
Allison - The drums and cymbal are ready...:)
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