If it's spring, it must be time for a new exercise program. In the last hour, I've just made a complete fool of myself. My son won't claim me as his mother and my husband averted his eyes when I waved, pretending not to see me - a real dig considering today is our wedding anniversary. Even my dog Watson, Pug-Extraordinaire, attempted to stop me leaving the house in my latest outfit.
With a hat on my head, loose shorts and a Sunkist Orange shirt, ski poles, weighlifting gloves and a pair of in-line skates, I am now the ridiculous looking woman gliding up and down her street. I've donned this outfit before a few years ago before a ski trip to get into shape and I got pretty good at avoiding rocks and falls. But today, I started too high up the hill and nearly face-planted into asphalt -- not fluffy, powdery snow. I recovered from my error and much more slowly made my way back and forth down the way for almost an hour. We live across from a family who raise llamas and even those docile creatures followed the adventures of my big ass between bites of cedar leaves and winter grass.
No cell phone photos or digital pics. This time anyway. My family does not want a visual record while the fresh memory of my workout-fit still burns their neurons.
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