When I was in my latest car accident, in which a car blew past a stop sign in front of my friend Bethany's car in an attempt to prematurely end all our lives, I got whiplash.
As a matter of fact, it still sucks. My neck makes new noises I don't like or trust. But time passes, injuries heal, and this week I thought, "Laura, you are becoming a pudding. A human Christmas pudding."
(These are the sort of uplifting bits of information my brain likes to give me, in order to brighten my day and improve my self-esteem.)
So I thought about it and realized I wasn't waking up in unspeakable pain anymore, AND I could both turn my head and look up all at the same time. I decided that meant I could try fitness again.
I am trying to say nice things about this fitness. All I can really say that is: My neck doesn't hurt.
The rest of me hurts.
I can't sit or stand without pain, and I am walking as if someone decided to beat me with a tire iron before I came to work. Tire irons hurt. Fitness hurts.
There is not enough sweet tea in the world to make me feel better.
I have to do this again tomorrow. Also the next day. Also the next day.
Stupid healthy lifestyle, ruining my life.