High

So last night after my workout, still potentially high on endorphins, I decided to walk to the park and meet up with Mr Furious and the girls. I say high on endorphins, because I decided to go to the park in my exercise clothes. I decided to do this on purpose. I even climbed onto the toilet to check myself out in the medicine cabinet before I left to confirm that "yes, yes, I do look like a post-workout bad ass" and decided all my peeps in the hood needed to see this for themselves. The whole way around the block I was quite impressed with my own self and thinking "oh I wish Marc & Marj (neighbors) were eating by their window so they could behold my transformation from postpartum frump to elite fitness bad ass.." Then I meet up with Family Furious. And the reason Mr. Furious and I are married becomes evident when I explain to him what a goddamn bad ass I am, he of course agrees, and offers that passersby will be thinking to themselves ..."ohhh she just got back from a run!" Exactly! So I thought I'd describe my bad ass ensemble to you all: 11 year old blue lycra blend capris, grey nursing sports bra... cause nothing says "bad ass" like a nursing sports bra... and a black maternity t-shirt. Yes I said it... MATERNITY! So since I'm not pregnant that means the amble front hangs down in the front. Oh and there were some cobwebby things on my left hand shoulder, I knew they were there.. they were there when I was working out the day before.. and I just left it. Now if that doesn't say "Future Olympian" I don't know what does!