Fwumpus

I feel like crap today. Yesterday I used my certificate for a free session with a personal trainer at the martial arts studio where I take kickboxing and pilates. I allowed the trainer to stack more weight than I really should've (i.e., I ended up leg pressing 280lbs), and did all those insane one-legged squats and bench presses and reclining/hanging pull-ups (like an upside-down push-up). I did this for an hour and a half, after a ten-minute warmup on the treadmill. I can't remember the last time I was in this much pain. Everything except my abs are excrutiated. That is precisely why I, with a Marine-like tenacity, decided I should suck it up and go to pilates this morning. Well, yep, now my abs are sore too. Good job, Heather. I popped three extra strength tylenol and tried to sleep it off, but woke up when I stretched my legs out and felt like burning knives were piercing my quads. To make matters worse, I have somehow managed to put on three more pounds, despite working out for four hours a week for the past month and a half. I skipped lunch today in an attempt to burn something off, but I just feel grumpy and my head is killing me. I'm halfway through my second non-fat latte of the day, which is oddly not helping. I just want to eat a big bowl of pho and pass out. I hope Scott didn't have Vietnamese for lunch today. There's leftover buffalo and chantrelle shepherd's pie, but I feel too fwumpy to have gravy again for dinner.

Watched "Our Song" on IFC today. It felt like a failed attempt to do Mi Vida Loca in the style of Spike Lee, and fell far short of being what it really could've. Kerry Washington is a compelling young actress, though, and made it somewhat bearable.

Yay, new OC tonight.