Yawn.

Last night I spent quality time trying to figure out if an intoxicated Shawna had a concussion after diving through shrubbery and connecting her head with some cement, which led to checking to make sure she was still breathing every 20 minutes as she slept through chaos.

Last night I also panicked after a car crashed into my house at 1 a.m., and I am still amazed that the guy didn't go through the wall.

Last night I really did not sleep much.

Awesome idea.

So I have till December 9 at a super cheap rate at the current gym as part of the trial period... And I had a thought. Why not shop around? A free five day trial here, a free week there... I could hit all the gyms in this town and have winter be over and be able to run outside again. BOO YAH! So thrifty.

Shawna got out of her assessment cause the trainer was sick. As such, she is not currently bruised and bleeding. I was not so lucky... My legs turned black and blue (sexy) and I'm a little scared of the treadmill now.

Did I mention I've gained 10 post-marathon-moving-in-with-Shawna-drinking-beer-eating-pie pounds? Actually it's only 5, as 5 were just cause of my period, but STILL. Beer = good. Offsetting with the treadmill = even better.

Lesson learned...

Blood, sweat, and treadmills.

Tonight I met the male reincarnation of Jillian Michaels. As a result, I am bleeding, bruised, and very well may vomit.

Shawna and I took the plunge, you see, and started on a trial membership at a gym for a month to see if we like it before joining. When you join this particular gym they make you do an assessment whereupon you have a free session with a trainer and they tell you how much you suck. I had my assessment today at 9 p.m. It turns out no one works out at 9 p.m. on a Thursday, which is one thing I had going for me tonight.

The trainer first began asking me about my fitness goals and game plan, etc. My first mistake was wearing my marathon pink-skull t-shirt (Shawna told me to, cause it makes me look hard core). My second mistake was telling him I've lost over 70 pounds and just ran a marathon. Clearly, he had the wrong impression of me after those statements. Hardcore, maybe, but athletic and coordinated? Hardly.

He asked if I was warmed up, and I said no--off to the treadmill we went. He told me to stand on the sides and set the treadmill to a 7.0 mph speed. That's an 8:34 mile. I do not run a mile in 8:34. It went something like this:

Trainer: Okay, jump on.
Me: Um. I'm really slow, just so you know, and not used to treadmills.
Trainer: Oh, you'll be fine, just go for it.
Me: THUMP.

Yes, I face planted. Hard. On I jumped, and back went my feet. I caught myself with my knees and my elbows, which are now bruised and bloody. Of course, that wasn't enough, as then the trainer decided to save me by grabbing the back of my pants and sports bra and lifting me into mid-air. There I was, flying through the air by my clothing, as my pants slid down and I was left thinking, "Oh lord, they're going to see my vagina."

Trainer Man apologized profusely. In my attempts to seem hardcore, I said, "Oh, no worries, but I might bleed on your treadmill."

It didn't end there--I went through his whole, hardcore workout. Think lots of lifting, sweating, grunting, and bleeding through my open treadmill wounds. And he made me jump on one of those little platform things. I see people doing it on The Biggest Loser all the time, and think it looks easy--those bitches are less than easy! Finally, I finished, and he told me he was impressed because I'm hardcore. I ran home and told Shawna all about it, and she claims that she is going to refuse to go on Monday to her assessment. Then we ran to the neighbor's house to tell her about it.

Did I mention I face planted?

Dolly Parton is on Leno right now, and I have to ice my legs. Good night.

So.

I kind of fail at resolutions. Blog regularly? Not so much.

Good news--Shawna and I have actually joined a gym, on a trial basis at the moment to see if we like it, and tonight is the inaugural visit.

That is, if she ever comes home to go with me. Avoidance, maybe?

My new job is awesome, but makes my brain hurt, and I very much need a nap.

What's up, blogging? That's all for today.

November resolutions, biotch.

Tonight we discovered that Shawna is the alpha female in our apartment. When we began our roommate adventures, our theory was that I would make Shawna healthier by influencing in our ways. Instead, there has been beer. And cupcakes. And Wednesday night fast food night.

As such, we have decided that I should turn that around and impose my healthy ways on her.

For November, our goals include:

1. Join a cheap (very, very cheap, but hopefully not ghetto fabulous like last winter) gym in order to minimize our beer bellies. We can't give up beer, but we can try to offset it.

2. Shawna: "Take up smoking! (giggle giggle) It's very Parisian." Not a goal. Our goal is to continue not smoking, as smoking is gross and makes me want to die.

3. Eat vegetables. Many vegetables. Less bacon, more spinach. (Shawna just said to put less bacon, more chocolate. NO, no I will not)

4. Replace Wednesday night fast food night with Wednesday night SALAD NIGHT!!!! WOOOOO! (Shawna: "This is ridiculous.") This does include fast food salads. And BLT's, cause BLT's are awesome. (Shawna: "With LIGHT ranch dressing!")

5. Ride our damn bikes at least once before it snows. Those things have been chained to our stoop all month.

6. Blog every other day, at least, as we suck at blogging lately.

7. Enjoy a 10-day long bikram yoga fest, while I wear shiny, silver spandex pants for no reason at all.

8. Read "Julie & Julia" as we've both checked it out twice from the library with little results.

9. Drink water. Lots of water. Hydration is key.

10. Stay awake for the entire showing of "New Moon" at 12:07 on opening night (dressed up, of course, cause we're cool and mature). Caffeine is our friend.

Random photos of our fall adventures without any explanation.