Fifty Pounds Baby

Woohoo! I’ll take that fifty pounds and a pint of lager! Or hell, just give me fifty lagers to get through this post!

I’m a visual person. Seems funny to say that. How could I MISS the 50 extra pounds that so sneakily(and lumpily) graced my 5’2″ sveltness? But humor me here. What am I really living my life dragging around with me? What is fifty pounds??Really, what the hell is it, and why me?

2 Lizzie dogs and she’s a sweet little chunk of “I will lick you in the faceness.”

200 sticks of butter… oh heavens, what I could do with 200 sticks of butter!

53 regulation FIFA soccer balls… really? REALLY? I’m walking around with the equivalent of 53 size 5 soccer balls dangling and jangling  all over me. Blows me away… kick me. Seriously.

53 cans of La Sierra refried black beans. Aye Carramba! Put 53 cans of black beans in your backpack and go take a hike. Or better yet, play 3 sets of tennis. I run outta gas just thinking about it. I’m cracking myself up. That was a bad one.

405 tennis balls (135 cans of balls) Oh. My. Gosh. Balls!

2 25 pound dumbells. When I think about how much energy it takes to do chest presses with these dudes, I can’t even believe that I am doing everything with this much weight.

Now that I’m utterly and thoroughly amazed with myself (admit it, you’re thinking I’m pretty freaking strong), I will also admit that I’m utterly and thoroughly disgusted, dismayed and still kind of impressed. I see too clearly what I’m hauling around. My brother once said to me about 50 pounds ago and completely joking, “Does it take you two trips to haul ass?” And now, it’s not so damned funny. Why yes it does bro and a wheelbarrow to boot!

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