White out workout
As I flip through the channels on the television, the only thing I see is the tickertape on the bottom of the screen, telling me of all the school closures in the United States. Apparently, this storm is pretty strong and has been wreaking havoc below the 49th parallel.
Of course, above the border, we call it winter.
While the snow falls, inch by inch, people carry on with their lives. Before I wake up, my next door neighbours would have been to the liquor store to get their weekend stash, the hookers are already waiting for their perps on the corner, and the guy who parked his car across the street gave up digging it out and left it behind.
Even though there are many who complain about the weather, I think I have to make the best of it since it will be around for the next six months.
When you have snow, make sexually inappropriate snowmen, oui?
Anyway, because of the (almost) white out conditions, I know I have to get my ass outside and shovel some snow. Because snow doesn’t shovel itself, I take it as an incentive to think of shovelling as a workout of sorts since I don’t belong to a gym (or work out).
For 45 minutes, my body stretches, flexes, lunges, pumps and pushes its way to a feasible representation of what I think it should look like in my head, even though it's not reflective in the mirror. In a way, I feel exhilarated and energized. My muscles are tingling, proving that you have to exert yourself in order to exercise.
After all of that, I make my way inside, treat myself to several Pillsbury desserts, fresh from the oven, and watch all that exercise go to waste as I sit down and feel my ass get bigger while I lick the delicious white frosting from my fingertips.
It doesn't matter how much I eat, because in a few hours, I go back outside and perform my white out workout again. And, this procedural will last for the next six months.
Of course, above the border, we call it winter.
While the snow falls, inch by inch, people carry on with their lives. Before I wake up, my next door neighbours would have been to the liquor store to get their weekend stash, the hookers are already waiting for their perps on the corner, and the guy who parked his car across the street gave up digging it out and left it behind.
Even though there are many who complain about the weather, I think I have to make the best of it since it will be around for the next six months.
When you have snow, make sexually inappropriate snowmen, oui?
Anyway, because of the (almost) white out conditions, I know I have to get my ass outside and shovel some snow. Because snow doesn’t shovel itself, I take it as an incentive to think of shovelling as a workout of sorts since I don’t belong to a gym (or work out).
For 45 minutes, my body stretches, flexes, lunges, pumps and pushes its way to a feasible representation of what I think it should look like in my head, even though it's not reflective in the mirror. In a way, I feel exhilarated and energized. My muscles are tingling, proving that you have to exert yourself in order to exercise.
After all of that, I make my way inside, treat myself to several Pillsbury desserts, fresh from the oven, and watch all that exercise go to waste as I sit down and feel my ass get bigger while I lick the delicious white frosting from my fingertips.
It doesn't matter how much I eat, because in a few hours, I go back outside and perform my white out workout again. And, this procedural will last for the next six months.
Authored by S at 12:00 am
5 Comments:
i like shoveling snow. and like you its my workout. because it is a fucking workout! i was sweating my balls off. and down to a hoodie and gloves by the time i was done.
and then i went in. and scrubbed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees. and baked 2 batches of chocolate chip. heath. and pecan cookies.
It is great. I lived in E Europe once (there you go, something about me) and shovelling snow was the best thing to do before having a bit of cake and a cup of tea.
becareful about those sexually inappropriate snowmen. they like to take advantage of unsuspecting canadians.
I'm all about that being inside part with the hot drinks and the Pillsbury treats.....can I just stay inside and watch you out the window being inappropriate with the snowmen? I'm a voyeur, you know.
hmm maybe u should come out to the West Coast for a month or two; today is nice and dry and dare i say, sunny!
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