Getting in Shape

My youngest daughter is here visiting from Texas. At the behest of me, she is helping me to get into shape. You see, my 30th class reunion is coming up. There's something about class reunions that will make you do things that you wouldn't ordinarily do; such as lose 20 lbs in a month or in my case, actually engage in physical activity in the hopes of losing a dress size or two.

I can count the number of times when I was actually physically fit. In 8th grade, when I was a bona fide cheerleader (my kids still chuckle at the thought of me doing a back walkover or handspring) and when I was 30 years old and had just had my third child. Something about being 30 sparked me into action. Even as a child, running was just something I never enjoyed doing. Must've been in the genes or something.

However, I suppose showing up at my reunion and declaring that I still have baby weight could potentially backfire. After all, I AM old enough to be a grandma (which I will be by then), and even if people were to believe I had a small child at home, they would certainly declare me legally insane. So, no, I cannot show up with this extra poundage. I'm bound to be found out with that scurrilous excuse. Granted, it's true that my weight ballooned during my 4th pregnancy. That and the fact that I've eaten about a million gallons of junk food since the day my youngest was born!!

Anyhow, the thing with my daughter is, she refuses to understand that I'm old and decrepit. For some reason, she thinks I can move like a 20 year old. I got news for her -- I ain't no 20 year old!! And to make matters worse, she actually MAKES me move until I sweat and huff and puff. It sucks, really! She calls my bluff on everything. Even the chest pains I felt today -- NOTHING! I'm still alive so I presume those were really just stitches in my side, but the fact is...they COULD'VE been real! As we passed a park bench she said, "Don't even think about it!" This, from the gird of my loins!

The other day as we were walking endlessly on the track at our exercise hub I commented that the reason I hate to exercise is that I hate to sweat and I hate to feel short of breath. Her response? That, mother, is called EXERCISING! I knew there was a reason I hated it! So, tomorrow, as I'm huffing, puffing, AND sweating...think of me! All I can say is I better look "hot" at my reunion -- and not because it's a 90-something degree day in August!!