"Getting old is crap." She said to me.
"Tell me about it. I tried to do a cartwheel the other day, just to see if I still could, and I felt gravity pulling me to the ground."
She looked at me. "That wasn't gravity. That was your ass."
Okay, seriously. I've been bodyjacked. I'm not sure how or when it happened but some twenty-year-old stole my six-pack abs, my toned legs, and my firm butt. I looked in the mirror one day and for the first time I didn't like what I saw. PC term: Cellulite. Real girl term: Big Dipper Dimples. Because that's what they look like when you connect them. And for $1 they'll jiggle.
Anyway, while my real body is AWOL I'll have to shape up what I've got. Fun. My first step in de-jiggling was going to a 21-day bootcamp program this morning at 5:30 am. First thing that popped into my mind was a drill sergeant yelling at me in his gravelly voice to move my jelly ass and running me so hard my ovaries fell out.
But, Sergeant Satan had better things to do and a personal trainer was running Hell. We did strength training in timed intervals and I got a total body workout. How do I know? Because I could barely lift my leg to get in the car. The best I could do was sort of roll into the driver's seat. And when I lifted my hand to put on mascara I swear I heard my arm call me the B-word.
Only 20 more days to go. Yay.
I'm going to push through it or die trying--a few times I think I did. In the end I'll be toner than tone. Firmer than firm. Tighter than tight. And most importantly my butt will have divorced my thighs and relocated to a condo up north.
So, to the bodyjacker...Keep the bod toots. I've moved on to greener pastures and firmer asses.