Thought this post was going to be about the London 2012 Olympics, right? Well, they have been very exciting, and I don't care what people say, I'm all about Oosa pride. I even taught Sasha to say "Go oosa." I tried "Go USA" at first, but he didn't really get it. He's only to 3-word sentences now, so it was too much. And I've been following Gabby Douglas a lot too. She trains at the same gym Karen, my sister-in-law, occasionally works at, so I feel all connected with her. And also, every time we pull away from China in overall medal count, I get all excited. I mean, do you know how many national resources they put into beating us? And yet, we totally hang with them. Except in diving, where they are freaking amazing. And table tennis and badminton. But whatever. We win at volleyball.
Regardless of the previous paragraph, I've been depressed about our Froerer Family Olympics. These are an annual tradition at the Froerer Family Compound. Since I've had three kids in 3 years and 10 months, I've been pregnant for two of these Olympics, and then this one, 8 weeks postpartum. When I was pregnant, I was okay with being the slowest runner, the most awkward jumper, whatever. I also was okay with winning the soccer kick and (most importantly) the dessert competition.
This year, I was feeling good enough, recovered enough, to not be okay with any of these things. I didn't even take part in the situp competition, and a good thing too. That night, I tried do do some. Eight. And that was with severe cheating. My abs didn't burn and ache, they just DIDN'T EXIST. They weren't there. "But Molly," one might say, "you had just had your abs stretched out and CUT IN HALF. It's okay." Yeah. But I'm not that girl. I'm not the girl who can't do nine situps. I reject that girl.
In that spirit, I've been doing situps every day. I'm up to 35! More than my age (barely). I've also started exercising every day on our former clothes rack, the exercise machine. I'm still plateauing with my weight, but whatever. I'm getting sweaty almost every day, and soon the weight will come off. You hear me, weight? You're coming off! And next year? I'm totally kicking everybody's butt in situps. Even Karen. (fingers crossed)