If there was one thing I was determined to get done this week... and believe me, this girl on a high from the hope of a new year had a lot of ish on her to-do list... it was to learn what I.M.A. stands for conquer my fear of the intimidating four-story campus Intramurals Activities... full of nineteen-year-old gym rats who have no other purpose in life except to look good work out.... and work out, myself. In a past life {Read: undergrad} I lived at the gym. I taught fitness classes four days a week and when I started counting reps in my sleep... one, two, threeeeeeeee... my roommates gave my alter ego a name: Amy Aerobix. Teaching spinning and kickboxing were most definitely my two favourite hours of the week. I have joked before that A.A. has since retired her sports bra but recently, I have found myself listening to a new song and thinking this would be an awesome climb or a great cool-down... and I've grown to quite miss her presence in my life... and her toned arms. Buuuut after three consecutive days of working out (and a break today to go snowshoeing because the lactic acid in my muscles is still burning), I'm excited to announce that the b*tch is back... sans the toned arms. For now.
Endorphin-induced post-workout, I even signed up for a half marathon that is sixteen weeks away. Train + maintain, baby.
I haven't published a mixed tape in a while but no workout would be complete without a 60-minute playlist.
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