Triathlons Are For Lovers
It is fairly obscene knowing how much work I have piled up and waiting for me but yet here I sit blogging. I have so much work to do, in fact, that I took the day off of work to get it done. What's more obscene? There is a very good chance that after I finish this little post that I'll throw on a tankini and float.
I'm in the middle of reading Nutrition for Dummies and I've started hitting the gym every morning again for the first time in a year. Why? Because a very lovely and wonderful yet very obese friend of mine recently told me she was going down to the beach to do a triathlon next month. That's not all, folks. Apparently this will be her fourth in the past year or so. What the fuck? I couldn't do a triathlon if my life depended on it. But yet here is this gal who is almost 100 pounds overweight doing her fourth such event with apparent ease. Or as much ease as you can do a fucking triathlon. Her training regimen? She stops drinking and smoking the month before. Needless to say, that made me pretty much feel like shit about myself. So now I've decided to go all Jackie Warner on your asses.
A fucking triathlon. Give me a break.
This reminds me of the time that my not so smart college roommate entered the PhD program.
All right, bitches, it is time to go float. Maybe I'll even swim a couple of laps to train for the triathlon that I am planning on doing in 2011.
Love,
Sugarfoot
I'm in the middle of reading Nutrition for Dummies and I've started hitting the gym every morning again for the first time in a year. Why? Because a very lovely and wonderful yet very obese friend of mine recently told me she was going down to the beach to do a triathlon next month. That's not all, folks. Apparently this will be her fourth in the past year or so. What the fuck? I couldn't do a triathlon if my life depended on it. But yet here is this gal who is almost 100 pounds overweight doing her fourth such event with apparent ease. Or as much ease as you can do a fucking triathlon. Her training regimen? She stops drinking and smoking the month before. Needless to say, that made me pretty much feel like shit about myself. So now I've decided to go all Jackie Warner on your asses.
A fucking triathlon. Give me a break.
This reminds me of the time that my not so smart college roommate entered the PhD program.
All right, bitches, it is time to go float. Maybe I'll even swim a couple of laps to train for the triathlon that I am planning on doing in 2011.
Love,
Sugarfoot
@ 9:17 AM
4 Comments:
I've seen a few pics of you ... you're too thin to float. Except for your breast implants.
I didn't know Sugarfoot had breast implants - ya know I actually had my two grubby hands on her breasts in a fairly non-sexual way a few years back...or was it just a dream.
The words "motor city monk" and "non-sexual" don't go together! His libido could power Muncie, Indiana.
Sugarfoot doesn't have breast implants, does she?
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