Post-Turkey Workout

Bright and early Black Friday (ok, so not so early, it was, like, 9:45) my parents, my husband and I went to the gym. We were a few of a few. Apparently only crazy people go to the gym that day. 

Before the big dinner on Thanksgiving, my dad, Conrad and I went on a 6 mile walk around town - the last 2 miles of which were a killer hill. Obviously, sitting on a little hard bike seat was less than comfortable after tackling a big hill. I'll be the first to admit - I couldn't finish the spinning class. I stopped half-way through because I was literally bruising. No shame in sensitivity. But I can confidently say that if I ever had to walk for my life, I'd never die. 

The whole scenario is hilarious, mostly because I really am not a person who "works out." I'm active, we go on walks and hikes, and I love doing low key stuff, but I never intentionally exercise. 

So, of course it just so happened that on the biggest eating holiday in America (and the day after, when I'm supposed to be in a calorie coma like everyone else), I worked my glutes and thighs into a pathetic submission. Then we walked around the mall all day on Saturday. 

I'm not complaining. I loved it. I'm just marveling at the weirdness of it all. 

My mom and I match. How presssshhh.