So Brock was in Boise this last weekend. And I never work out when he's not around. I have no idea why. I think it has something to do with the whole "if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it something-something-something" sorta bullshit. Normally I'm terrible when he's out-of-town. He'll come home to poorly hidden fast food wrappers in the garbage and a guilt-ridden wife reclined in front of the TV watching some reality show (think Al Bundy from Married with Children - but cute).
It's an odd phenomenon - the "when the cat is away, the mice will play" theory (in my case "play" means greedily stuff my face with fatty burgers and greasy fries while slurping down a large soda and then pathetically, and typically poorly, attempting to hide the evidence). And the thing is - he doesn't even care if I eat fast food - and I wouldn't give a shit if he did - but as any of you who are lucky enough to know my husband understand that relentless badgering and quipy little comments are somewhat of his specialty.
Anyway - my point is that I didn't resort to my typical fast food binge while Brock was gone. I ate a salad. I ate some chicken nuggets (the frozen ones - not Mickey D's - and yes - I know they are not considered quote-unquote healthy, and to tell you the truth, they really kind of sucked). I ate a frozen pizza (and only a few slices - normally I'll mindlessly eat a whole pizza in front of the TV and then wonder why I can't fit my ass in skinny jeans). But - NO fast food! Score one for Alison's willpower. But detract a point for being a lazy couch potato and not working out. But add another point or two for cleaning the entire house. What's my score now? I don't know. I was never that great at basic math. 2+2 = Hmmm...5.667. See. I told you it's not my strong suit.
I did don my sports bra and running pants (that make my bootie look great - it helps my self-esteem as I stare at myself in the mirror while jogging - hey - don't laugh - why else do you think they have those floor-to-ceiling mirrors? Oh. To make sure you're using correct form? Whatever...my ass still looks great in those pants). Ok. I'm finished having a conversation with myself. I'm sure you are all wondering why in the hell you follow my blog at this point. Anywho - I did complete the Get-Your-Body-Back weight workout and then moved on to the treadmill where, no, I did not stare at my ass while running - not the whole time anyway.
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