pizza grilled cheese and the evolution of atherosclerosis

I decided to stop being the study monster today and run and shower and eat - you know, put into practice all the healthy living habits I'm always reading about... And let me tell you, did I learn a huge lesson in compliance this morning. I worked every day for four months to achieve a level of fitness I was proud to tout. Seven weeks of stress and relative inactivity, and I have lost it all.

I made a point to warm up in my driveway, a step I often ignored, since I figured I had backslidden a bit. I started slow, sped up at the incline, let up a bit where the street starts to slope down, and realized I was already short of breath. I crossed the street to the cranberry bog, entered the gate, and was forced to stop. I cannot tell if the discomfort was from the shock of the cold air, the wind that made a quick joke of my layering technique, or if I am legitimately so out of shape already that one mile of running arrests me so. The rest of the trip around the cranberry bog consisted of equal parts power walking and twenty-step intervals of running.

In addition, my nose was running. My eyes were a-watering. And I had the sickly sweet-metallic taste in my mouth that frequently precedes vomiting. It. Was. Awesome. I truly feel the best part of the experience was passing another cranberry bog fitness enthusiast -- twice. The first time, I was still mid-run and was still capable of saying, "Good morning." The second time, this seventy-something gentleman was still power-walking along with his water weights, and I was a sad, hypoxic mess. "How ya doin there, little lady?" he asked me.
"Well, I'm using an old soccer sweatshirt as a snotrag and I'm pretty sure I can't breathe. But otherwise good." He laughed and continued on. I contemplated life, the universe, and all its tiny cruelties. I'm 23 and being laughed at by an elder in better shape than I.

Looks like it's time to renew my vows to my own physiology. Sure, education is great, but what good will it do me if I throw a clot and die before graduation? Pretty much nothing. Because I'm pretty sure my cheap-ass school would NOT print my certificate if I became deceased too close to graduation day.

so, I've armed myself against laziness tomorrow morning: cute sports bra on my bedstand. leggings to bed. filled water bottle at hand. alarm set to 0600, being woken up by the pleasant sounding yet angry lyric'd Ok Go. shall not fail.

 PS I was trying to give you an idea of what sort of visual appeal I need to get up and go by posting a picture of my favorite sports bra. this was close enough. picture blue instead of white, and GOD, NO PINK:

but in my search, I came upon this little gem:

this push up guaranteed to imitate a cup size larger than you are is being sold under the guise of "sports bra." LIES PROPAGANDA SLANDER SELF-LOATHING. dearest readership, if you go running in a sports bra, do your lungs a favor and STOP. STOP IT. if you want to attract attention, there are less scummy ways to do it. if you want to induce syncope and hypoxia, don't. take an acting class and feign fainting if you want that muscled guy at the gym to catch you.

ahem, anyways. so then I came home and made myself a pizza grilled cheese and studied the evolution of atherosclerosis and coronary artery disease. yay irony. why? because [expletive] you, heart. that's why. you'll get yours tomorrow morning.