I've been writing about the Undead for so long that my body started to emulate one a bit too closely this week. So I huffed and I puffed and let my husband drag me up and down the mountain along the section of Appalachian Trail that is at the base of our lane in Virginia. In the next book - he dies. The man who swore to love me forever apparently hid the vows that swore to burst my lungs with exercise after weeks of having my butt in a chair.
Ergo, I was a bit stiff. Not bad for a zombie but bad for a woman of my middle-aged years who wants to see the nether end of them. After icing myself off with a margarita upon our return, I vowed to return to yoga and the the suppleness of my youth. Yeaaaaaaaaaaah.
Today I started out with an easy stretch over my head. Both arms extended to where I guessed was the sun on this foggy humid day. Thank god I brought along more margaritas. A girl can't get parched, you know. Bad for the muscle tissues. Stretch is done, I feel magnificent. Pulling one elbow to the back of my head and drawing the hand down to my bra strap to be grasped by my other hand doing who the heck knows what but it did manage to tickle, I felt the gentle burn of biceps that hadn't been used for much more than typing words like "putrification" and "chased by men with pitchforks" in many moons. I was a goddess.
Moving on, I propped up a leg on my chair with my best Captain imitation, reminded myself that I needed more rum next time I exercised, and stretched out my leg, arm and core with an enthusiastic Warrior pose. The photo has been destroyed. You're welcome.
Next was my back and thigh muscle thingys so folding forward and clasping my hands together beneath my knees while seated, I managed to squish the crap out of my boobs in an effort to save my back. Hell no. I did, however, find the candy wrapper my er, dog, left behind under the desk. *licks fingers*
Wanting to pace myself, I went straight into corpse pose for writers. The phone call to my husband higlighting the exhaustive effort I put into today's routine of superior fitness. Tomorrow -- belly dancing!