I am sitting at my desk with about six ounces of cottage cheese, and I am going to try to eat it for lunch without crying. God as my witness, I will get this crap down my throat even if I have to grimace and whine as I chew.
Why am I torturing myself? Is it not enough that I stayed at softball practice for 4 hours on Sunday when some people left after 2 hours? Don't I already deserve a medal for taking the stairs yesterday all day when my muscles were so sore I could barely walk? Am I that much of a masochist?
Well, yes, actually, I kind of enjoy pain, but that is another story for another da
The fact is, I decided to do a "duathlon" at the office gym. I was sort of chuckling to myself when I signed up, because it wasn't even a triathlon. I mean, it's only two thlons. Big whoop.
I tried it today, and oh my god. Now I'm thinking, "Wow! That was only two thlons!?! What if I tried to do three?!?!" It was surprisingly tiring. I can't be the slowest duathlon participant. I just can't. I have much to prove here.
And that is why I am eating cottage cheese. Here is me eating my third bite of cottage cheese just now, and I am not trying to be funny in this picture.
This is my natural reaction to cottage cheese.
The things I do in the name of physical fitness.
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