This last week was spring break and I was bound and determined to exercise even if it meant doing it without Enrique (my Spanish elliptical trainer). So I got up Monday morning and decided I would run an hour for optimal weight loss. I started down the block and every thing was going fine and then came the pain......
15 minutes into the run and my lungs felt like they were on fire and I started wheezing hard core. I immediately redirected my run to the fastest route home. I barely dragged my body up the driveway and crawled to the middle of the family room. It was here that I was overcome with hot flashes and couldn't get my swish swish pants off fast enough (to ease your mind I was wearing shorts underneath). Then came the strong need to rid my stomach of all its contents thank goodness it was a false alarm. After the stomach debacle my poor heart was beating as fast as a hummingbirds (nice metaphor huh, I guess English class is paying off). And after 10 minutes of intense breathing exercises I was finally able to get up and grab some crackers and a pillow and then get some well deserved rest.
It was in this position, passed out with my pants lying next to me, that mom found me.
Pathetic right.
Mom deduced that high altitude was the culprit and I deduced that I would never run ever ever again…..and then I baked cookies.
I’m starting to think I need to embrace the college weight instead of making it feel like that annoying smelly person that won't stop following you around.
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