Let's Get Physical

see that car? see how that car kicks ass? it's the kind of car that you wouldn't want to pull up next to you at a stop light and challenge you to a race because you would surely be left in the dust because you are driving a minivan. but if you were training for some drag races this is the car you would want to train you.

so where am i going with this? well i just got a personal trainer and her name is, i kid you not, PORSCHE. and she is the ass-kicking car and i am the minivan. you've seen pictures of me on this blog -- i am adorable, soft, round and a rubens-esque dream. porsche is this totally hot, cut, ass so tight you could bounce quarters off of it lady who is going to be sculpting the clay of my body into stone, cold marble. that sounded dirty.

after the first session i am sore -- but not so sore that i think i'm going to die -- just sore enough to remind me of all those muscles i've been ignoring. and, at the end of our first session she looked at me with her chiseled features and her flowing dreads and said what we all had been thinking: "i am going to kick your ass."

oh. my. god.