365 Random Days of Team Zybko
Day # 252
November 11th, 2012
Something To Be Sore About
Well the culprit wasn't Cross Fit, a half marathon, or a busy week packed with Zumba classes that have my quads screaming for mercy. An afternoon with the kids playing Julie the Crusie Director, winter edition has me sore this time. From head to toe I feel it. My fallen off the fitness wagon old soccer mom body is recalling every memory made yesterday. Good times my achey shoulders remind me. Oh yea, good times. The YMCA in Virginia, Minnesota has been a sanity saver the past few weeks. A series of low temperatures have kept us indoors and a bit desperate for new activities to burn off some energy. Most of the time the gym is empty, no one fighting us for part of the perfectly smooth, waxed floor arena. Occasion an elderly walker may come in to clock a mile or so but they don't mind the noise or near misses to the head with a random playground ball. They smile sweety and nod to the kids, by the third lap they can't help but comment how nice it is their older sister would play and have fun with them.
I know, I know.....a bit ridiculous.
I just roll with it knowing she left her glasses in the womens locker room.
I nudge the kids to not blow my cover.
Ok guys, let's pack it up and find your mom, maybe she will take us to Dairy Queen on the way home. ;)
Well the culprit wasn't Cross Fit, a half marathon, or a busy week packed with Zumba classes that have my quads screaming for mercy. An afternoon with the kids playing Julie the Crusie Director, winter edition has me sore this time. From head to toe I feel it. My fallen off the fitness wagon old soccer mom body is recalling every memory made yesterday. Good times my achey shoulders remind me. Oh yea, good times. The YMCA in Virginia, Minnesota has been a sanity saver the past few weeks. A series of low temperatures have kept us indoors and a bit desperate for new activities to burn off some energy. Most of the time the gym is empty, no one fighting us for part of the perfectly smooth, waxed floor arena. Occasion an elderly walker may come in to clock a mile or so but they don't mind the noise or near misses to the head with a random playground ball. They smile sweety and nod to the kids, by the third lap they can't help but comment how nice it is their older sister would play and have fun with them.
I know, I know.....a bit ridiculous.
I just roll with it knowing she left her glasses in the womens locker room.
I nudge the kids to not blow my cover.
Ok guys, let's pack it up and find your mom, maybe she will take us to Dairy Queen on the way home. ;)
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