I'm Soooo Not In Shape

Yesterday after work I decided to lift weights. I did six sets of biceps and six sets of triceps. I was going to do some leg exercises too but I hate leg exercises with a passion. It was really nice outside so I decided to swap out the leg exercises with a jog around the neighborhood. Only problem was that the jog around the neighborhood turned into a jog around the block. Well, it wasn’t that short, but it sure as hell wasn’t much over a mile. And there were frequent frequent frequent stops where I was gasping for air and people driving by actually pulled over and asked if I needed help. Yeah, it didn’t go so well.

After I got home and caught my breath (and smoked a cigarette) I pulled out the hedge trimmer and hacked away at two bushes in front of my house. Now, most people use the electric powered trimmers with the three foot arm and oscillating blades. No, no, not me, that’s beer money being wasted on an electric trimmer when I can easily borrow dad’s manually operated trimmer that looks like the biggest scissors ever. I mean, why spend money on something that would make the job easier when you have a functional tool that will get the job done but will require a little effort? Or at least I thought it would require little effort. After 15 minutes of hacking away at the bush I could be found lying down in my front yard panting like a puppy. After 15 minutes I was sweating more than I was after my mile jog. After 15 minutes I was ready to rip the fucking bush out of the ground. After 15 minutes I became very depressed, even to the point of self mutilation with the hedge trimmer, because I still had another bush to trim. Holding my arms parallel to the ground and constantly opening and closing the trimmer taxed my shoulders and arms (which were still shaking from lifting weights) to the point where I wondered if I’d ever be able to whack off again. That, my friends, is a damn scary thought. But I eventually got it done. They’re not exactly symmetrical, but I could never cut in a straight line in the first place. Shit, most of the time I can’t even walk in a straight line.

Oh, and for the record, I've gone jogging two days in a row now. Pretty soon I'll be able to climb a flight of stairs without wretching projectile vomit when I reach the top.