When it's a fight between my butt and my blog...

It's been awhile since the last one? How many times have I written that, not really knowing how to pick up from where we last left off?

Sigh.

Wanna hear the excuse for the latest break?

Well I don't care. I'm gonna tell you anyways.

I've been running my arse off. Literally. Almost everyday I strap on my four year old Nikes that can only be called "running shoes" in the most liberal definition of shoes, sweet talk myself onto the treadmill and then proceed to sweat, cry and pound my way through four brutal miles. BUT at the end of all that self imposed torture I feel WONDERFUL. Like I can go for another four miles (riiight)  Like I can fit into my skinny jeans (I can't). Like I'll one day be one of those people who runs for fun.... on national holidays even. Maybe even subscribe to "Runner's World" and train for a half marathons.

Alright. Alright. Before I get too ambitious let's just remember the real reason behind all the madness. Not health reasons, recreation, or meditation (which I've heard some people do while running which is crazy) but instead trying to recreate and reshape the house that tortillas, refried frijoles and cerveza built.

Am I getting to point in the story where I should parade out my point? Or maybe I should go on about how I was able to pack on 10lbs over just two weeks? And how as a person who never leaves home in anything but heels (I'm sexy like that)  I was forced to wear the ugly Nike shoes out because they were the only shoes that matched the drawstring pants that I needed to wear because all my other pants either cut off circulation to the upper half of my body and/or gave me muffin top.

Nasty. Nasty and sad.

What was I talking about? Oh yea. The point.

The point is that most afternoons I only have 60-90 sacred minutes to myself. In that time I must also eat, shower, clean, and start dinner. The remaining minutes must be spent on either running or blogging. And I'm tired of being fat. Soooo you get the picture.

The moral of the story if the post on the blog become more scant in the upcoming weeks, be happy for me. And my butt.