"I've decided that perhaps I'm bulimic and just keep forgetting to purge."

-- Paula Poundstone

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Well, that was weird

While I had been pretty consistent on the treadmill up until my father’s death a couple of weeks ago, I had been horrible about the gym.

I hadn’t been in a few weeks even before the death.

So, I made my way back last night for Zumba.

Probably about 20 seconds into the first song, I started crying.

I wasn’t particularly sad. I wasn’t particularly happy. I wasn’t in pain.

But I was crying.

And this lasted well into the second song.

I have no idea why this happened. Don’t know if it was some residual emotion that still needed to be released. Don’t know if that skinny bitch I swear is inside me was crying to get out.

Just don’t know.

But I do know that me shaking my bootie with tears streaming down my face had to make a few people think I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

Ah well. Tonight, I’m hitting the batting cages. I’ll try not to cry.

There’s no crying in baseball.

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