I'm getting a trainer...
Football's over. I have nobody to yell at me and make me run until I nearly kiss the clown. (Can I still use that? Guess I just did.)
Concussion's all gone, and shoulder (which I hurt banging my head off of it) is better, but in the past 6 weeks, I've put on 8 pounds of blubber.
All of the swearing and crying and bleeding and patting other girls on the behind playing football in 95+ heat is fast becoming for naught, and I won't stand for it! Oh yeah- I've gone back to full-time work (yay steady paycheck!) and freelancing on top of it, so I'm having a hard time getting myself to the gym if I'm not meeting someone there.
So... I'm tasked with getting mine self a trainer... and boy is this gonna be hard now that I have enough knowledge to be dangerous.
Boy I admire you folks with kids. How you do it, I'll never know. Until I do it too, but for now, I don't know.