Sunday, October 27, 2013
Blood clots
Not sure if it's my generation. Or my religious upbringing. Or my dad's unwavering devotion to his boys, but I was not raised as a princess. Tomboy would be generous. My brothers would drag my sister and I out to play football, baseball, climb trees, run around on the roof, etc.
And this week, after a particularly grueling week of workouts in addition to starting a marathon training plan (wait for it - you know I'll talk more about it over the next 16 weeks) which included suicides - timed suicides, two days of intense upper body weights and one day of 3 on 3 full court basketball, I'm dead.
I watched my daughter play basketball with us. Steve, another gentleman Steve's age, a high school freshman, a high school junior and a high school senior. It was brutal. I have some basketball playing in my background so I know positions and correct way to shoot which is no guarantee it will go in the basket, and can run and dribble and make a lay up. I was unprepared for how tired I would be the next day.
I work out in skirts and I even have several workout dresses (think tennis?). But I'm not princess looking. In Marquis' words, I look tough.
I would like to be a princess for a day. So I may just buy me a tiara and wear it. With my wedding dress. I'm not too old to pretend.
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