Eat, Pray.........Sweat

Maimy has been on a roll lately.  She convinced me to stop working out......among other things.  She is wildly persuasive and soothing when I let her be.  She always seems to know the right things to whisper in my ear to make everything seem alright.  Alas, I had a moment of nagging conscience. I had an insane burst of......lets better ourselves.  Even though Maimy had advised against it......I began reading The Miracle Of Forgiveness.  Life seemed bleak.....like going up a down escelator.........in a wheelchair.  It hurt.  It hurt to tears.  It hurt to 8 hours of tears.  Maimy said it was only PMS.  I hate to give her credit, but I think she was partially right.
I decided the best way to exorcise Maimy was to exercise the heck out of her.  We went back to Tae Bo, but not in the morning.  Maimy feels sluggish without 6 square meals and a few Cokes to really ground her.  So one evening we donned some terribly ugly workout clothes to match our ugly mood and red rimmed eyes.  As I made full body contact with a public floor, 45 minutes into one form of Hell on Earth, with Lady Gaga belting out Poker Face.........I realized that for that short time Maimy had fled AND that it was distinctly possible I didn't comprehend the full spectral meaning of Poker Face.  Maimy couldn't take the cramp in my firm, firm gluteus, the heart rate above 65 beats, or the sweat between my boobs.  Even though hours before I had been feeling at my weakest in possibly years.........I KNEW I could beat that little hussy if I really wanted to.