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Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Apparently only woman lives by bread alone.

There are times when I like to pretend I don't have low blood in, I like to pretend this every moment of every day. So last night I decided it would be okay to go work out at seven and eat dinner when I got home. I have no idea why I made dinner so late. It's not like me to do that. When 5:00 rolls around, we're busy making food, but that didn't happen last night. I blame President's Day.

So Tabitha and I were being buff and lifting tons of weight and working our abs and arms and legs and behinds and trying not to whine that it hurts and makes us a little bit cranky, while at the same time feeling powerful and not noticing how the large man in front of us is whining less while lifting three times the weight (except in the leg press--I did just as much weight as he did because my thighs are freakishly strong which only makes the rest of me feel wimpy), and after about an hour my blood sugar dived.

If I'm at home reading or working at my computer when this happens, it's an easy thing to just go get a snack and ignore the fact that I feel simultaneously faint and nauseated. But at the gym, lifting stupid weights, feeling cranky and whiny, if my blood sugar dives--well, let's just say a quick exit is preferable to trying to explain how I can possibly lose consciousness while working out, and with my luck I'd somehow end up hurting a vital part of me while crashing to the floor.

So Tabitha and I opted out of our usual run which we do during the second hour of our workout, and got water and Gatorade and drove home to eat. And Adam laughed at us because he doesn't have low blood sugar and I don't love him right now but I will tonight when he comes home from school.


We'll try this again tomorrow night, but for now, I have a date with some running time. Bye!

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