Recently I’ve become religious. No longer am I an athiest quoting Darwin. OK, so I never quoted Darwin although I did read most of his Manifesto. My science teacher thought I was insane.
Regardless, I’ve developed a fondness for all things Jesus (WWJD? yes, I’ve bought the band…and worn it…) and Buddha (I’ve taken to chanting 30 min in the morning a la Nicheran Buddhism bc obviously it burns out bad karma and by God…or buddha, I have a lot of it).
Yet there’s another interest I have constantly studied and devoted eons of time to- Working Out. Running, Yoga, Pilates, Barre, Ballet, Boxing, Swiming, Karate, Zumba, various dance forms, Capoera, Boot Camp where I paid people to scream at me, Body Pump, Cycling, and many more. I do 20 min of yoga and an hour combo of running and pilates every single day (thats when I’m not doing anything else that is 😉
Why do I love it so much? I have absolutely no idea. Most people can’t fathom my depth of fondness for exercising. I approach it with a ferocious passion and meticulous dillegence. I plot, I plan, I sweat. I think I’m hooked. It much be an endorphins thing. Or dope. Or a lovely combo of both.
And yes, I totally strike sexy poses when I’m yogaing it up in my leather pants, or you know, moonlighting as a stripper or a sexy vampire slayer. Those were the days.