I worked out for the first time this year yesterday.

My sweet friend Catherine is a huge proponent of The 21-Day Fix, a health and fitness program that has given her a rocking body and a newfound sense of confidence and purpose to share her success with others.

I, on the other hand, got just past the warm-up in the cardio workout video Catherine lent me. I was starting my second set of “surrenders” (weights on shoulders, down and up one knee at a time), when I felt my back muscle pull and I collapsed painfully on the rug in a fetal position.

“Not good. Not good. Not good.” 

Jeez. Our military should hire an infiltrating personal trainer and get members of Isis to do these exercises. I’ll suggest it.

I got back up and tried to continue the workout but I could tell I’d seriously injured myself so I didn’t want to push it.

The pain continued well into the night, and I felt as though my alignment was off. I walked funny and my managers made fun of me and suggested Ben-Gay.

So, now I’m afraid to keep going with this thing. I think I should give my back time to heal, so I may have to start my 21 days a little bit later.  Like 2017. Just kidding. Maybe.

Why is it so hard to do the right things for ourselves? There are always obstacles. Why aren’t there obstacles to get to the Haagen Daas container? It’s frustrating.

Yours, on the couch,

Ang
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