'What made your butt fall down?"

One of the many things I love about living in Destin is that the people here generally keep a pretty nice physique. (They also all have tattoos, but that is beside the point.) It's easy to be active and stay in good shape when you live on the beach and know that you are going to be in a swimsuit eight to nine months out of the year. Motivation? Check!

I have been pretty good about going to the gym and staying active since I moved here last May- beach jogs, yoga, the gym, and of course kickball (not to be confused with dodgeball) have kept me feeling energetic and overall pretty healthy. That is, until mid-April when I busted out my book of excuses and decided that working out was not only inconvenient, but impossible. BIG mistake. Those LBS catch up quick! The last couple weeks of eating out and skipping the gym have seemed to trump out any work I have done over the last year. [Sigh.] Needless to say, it was back to the gym kicking and screaming yesterday afternoon.

When I lived in Austin, my friend Sara and I used to go run the Hike & Bike Trail around Town Lake. For some reason the only thing I remember about these runs (with the exception of the time I tripped on Lucy's leash and skidded three feet across the gravel while she literally pointed and laughed) is the ceremonious trips to the gas station we would make when we were finished. Odd, I know. But let me just say that gas stations are the BEST for impulse purchases. A soda is always better if you get it from the corner store, as is a candy bar, Icee, or anything else delicious and equally bad for your midsection. Since I haven't been to the gym in like, oh, two weeks, I decided I deserved a ceremonial post-gym Dodge's stop to reward myself for getting back on the work-out wagon. I decided I should probably opt for a "healthy" snack choice, so naturally I bypassed the granola bars and went straight to the trail mix instead. (Life lesson #1: You can never go wrong with anything that involves chocolate.) (Especially milk chocolate m&ms.)

I have since decided that I HATE trail mix. Correction: I LOATHE trail mix. It is way too much work to sift through all the different ingredients to get to the good stuff. (I hate jellybeans for this same reason.) So as I snacked I was overly annoyed that I had to pick all the stupid raisins from the bag. (I come from the school of thought that grapes should only be consumed two ways: straight from the freezer or squeezed into a bottle of Moscato. I don't want them dried-out, shrivelled, and served with peanuts thank-you-very-much.) The upside is that maybe the act of picking out raisins burned a few calories.

So at this point I am feeling alright about my day. Gym? Check. Somewhat healthy eating? Check. Then I run into Nick in the elevator at our condo.

Nick: Why are you touching your butt?

(Apparently I was, in fact, doing this. Awkward.)

Me: Well, it just seems like it was more "up" a couple weeks ago.

Nick: What made your butt fall down?

Me: Um, okay just because it is not "up" does not mean that it is "down."

Nick: But you just said...

Me: Oh just forget it.

Yep. That's right. Apparently not going to the gym makes your butt fall down. So for all of you that were wondering, now you know. Needless to say, tomorrow will be another gym day. I will be the one literally kicking (and screaming) to get those buns back where they belong. And the beat goes on...