Lack of Exercise

I exercise everyday. I feel the need to brag shamelessly about that. For thirty years of my life I exercised pretty much never. Not to say that I didn't try every now and again. I went to a yoga class once five years ago. When it started to get hard, I lied down on my mat and took a little rest until class was over. And I occasionally would read books about people exercising, which is kind of like exercise osmosis. But I never exercised consistently until last year.

About a year and a half ago, I noticed that my stomach was really sticking out, so I thought as any rational person would--I probably had a tumor growing inside of me. I went to my ob/gyn, convinced that she would find my tumor, cut that mass out of me, and I would leave her office a skinnier woman. Unfortunately an ultrasound revealed that all I had growing inside of my stomach was fat.

Which is why last January I made a New Year's Resolution that I would exercise everyday. And I have. (Totally bragging again.) In a seriously sick and twisted world, I have actually come to ENJOY exercising. I like getting all sweaty. I like ignoring my kids for 45 minutes every morning. I like singing along to awesome music from the 80's and 90's as I lift weights and glide on my secondhand exercise equipment. I like seeing myself progress. When I started lifting weights I could only bench press the bar, but now (control your jealousy) I'm bench pressing fifteen pounds. Oh yeah.

Which is why I am seriously bummed about a little incident last night, I would like to call "Kodie running into her cedar chest in the dark and injuring her knee." I was in bed, and I was thirsty. I got up to get a drink. Being considerate of my husband, I didn't turn on a light. That was pretty much my downfall, (literally), because thirty seconds later my knee collided painfully with the cedar chest at the bottom of our bed, and I was rolling on the ground crying in pain.

My husband, being considerate of me, began laughing. "That cedar chest has been there for three and a half years. How could you run into it?! There is at least a five foot path around it!"

He is, of course, right on both accounts. I would have probably hated him for life, but he made me breakfast in bed and cleaned up McKay barf four times today, so he is back at the top of my favorite people list.

Now, here is where the story gets weird. Since I am incapable of bending my knee without pain, I realized that exercise was going to be out of the question tomorrow. This really bummed me out. (That is the weird part.) I should be excited because I have a lot to do tomorrow. Like laundry. Today my family was so desperate for clean clothes that Deacon ended up wearing McKay's socks to church, and Chris told Parker that a pair of too little cotton shorts were boxer shorts. (They weren't.) So a little extra time in the morning should be seen as a windfall to a woman whose family is doing without the luxury of clean underwear.

But I didn't feel excited, I just felt bummed, until I happened to glance at my kitchen counter. I cheered up considerably when I noticed all the Christmas gifts my neighbors had brought me that afternoon--cookies, fudge, chocolate covered pretzels, homemade hot fudge sauce, and chocolate cream cake. Just to be polite I tried all of their gifts, and they were delicious! And then, because I felt like I should probably eat something healthy, I ate half a container of guacamole with chips.

Which brings me to the moral of this story--let your light shine before man, even if he's half-asleep in your bed. Trust me, your knees will thank you.