3athletejen

It all started a couple weeks ago at the Hallmark Store. Driven by my chronic need for a "little something sweet", I impulse bought an overpriced chocolate marshmallow heart. ($4 for a little piece of candy! Really, Hallmark? Has the card biz gotten that bad?) Anyway, I sat down with a good book to read while eating it. Three bites in and there's a noise in my mouth, followed by the feeling I just bit into tin foil. What the hell? It's a marshmallow. There's no sediment in marshmallow. I immediately know something's wrong as both the upper and lower tooth are screaming at me to quit chewing. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. This cannot be good. The lower tooth is actually a crown and the upper has a filling. (Yes, I do brush my teeth regularly.) If either or both are cracked this is gonna be bad. So I do what any normal person would do and ignore it. Maybe it will go away on it's own, I hope. If I don't acknowledge it, maybe nothing's really wrong. Except

I'm sitting in my living room chair under a blanket, half surfing the web and half watching mindless television. .001 percent of me is debating some sort of workout. But then I would have to actually get up and move. February should be renamed Funkuary. The cold, the ridiculous amount of snow and lack of sunlight make getting to the gym at 5:30 a.m. difficult. If I do drag myself out of the warm covers, it seems to be later and later. Friday I didn't finish my workout until 8 a.m., putting me at work by 8:45. Good thing they don't give out tardy passes. The double funk comes from an entire month off of swimming and yoga. A whole month. That's seven months in Jen-years. The funk was spiraling out of control. I had to do something. I needed a new mindset, damn it. So I decided to do what I should have done long ago and work on my weaknesses. The last two weeks have included lots of trainer and treadmill time. My legs are sore. I'm groaning a bit upon standing. But I&