Who knew workin' out would lead to warm bath that would lead to finding a lump that would turn out to be cancer. And here I thought I was just going to be able to fit into my snug pants.
my work out chicas: amy, lynn, + casey my ass kicking trainer
I never liked working out... cheerleading- yes :) #likeit'sanysurpriseisportedpompoms
I hadn't really worked out in 10 years, yes I walk but actually class fitness or weights, or weight loss schemes lasted about 2 weeks and I was over it.But then one night over cocktails at Casey's house for Amy's birthday... I committed myself to helping Casey build her website + figuring out facebook. That in turn lead to her committing to training me and these tweets followed:
told hubby i'm going to work w/ a personal trainer...he may have keeled over in Fred Meyer's-if you see him kindly help him off the floor
i may have been dreaming but i'm pretty sure i'm meeting my 'future' bleacher butt kickin' new personal trainer for coffee today
So now, all kidding a side... my workouts have turned into my cancer ass-kicking sessions. I'm on a mission to get strong. Strong so that I can handle the hard core round 2 chemo that starts in June. Strong for surgery. Strong for radiation. Strong for the long haul.
And "Barbara"- she's the bitch of a workout [known as consecutive rounds of 20 burpees, 30 push-ups, 40 sit ups, 50 squats] that led me to the tub soak, that lead me to the lump. I don't hate that biotch anymore... she was just helping me get the strong thing goin'.
