Mutiny.

Who needs to laugh, anyhoo?

Not me, for sure. Nor do I need to sneeze, to cough, to sit up, to get out of bed, to reach over and pick up paper...

Nope. I don't need no stinkin' stomach muscles. 

Or back muscles. Or arms. 

Surely this must be the case, because why else would the middle portion of my body be rebelling so?

Should you see me today (or really any day post boot camp), please know that I do not normally cry like a little girl when lifting a water bottle to my lips. My hands don't shake with Parkinsonian tremors while typing, and I am capable of walking up a flight of stairs. 

Really I am. 

Promise*.

*tries to talk self into believing

So the body presented a full on mutiny this morning as we played duck-duck-goose. Well, maybe it was half mutiny. I didn't actually "chunder everywhere" like this guy claims to

Yeah. About that...

I digress. Mutiny started on Tuesday when I am pretty damn sure I was on my hands and toes, attempting to do a push up (or 50) and my face hit the mud. grass. Did I mention I rang my shorts out after that workout and muddy water dripped off of me? 

Mutiny.

I don't even know what happened yesterday. 

Today hates me for it, which must mean I had a fantabulous time. 

At least, that's what it used to mean.

Today I tried not to cry as I did sit ups, flutter kicks and a zillion other core muscle using exercises. Thankfully we workout in the dark so no one saw the awful faces I was making while preventing a vomcano from ruining everyone else's workout. 

The fear of puking is alive and well. 

But mostly because it would use totally destroy the muscles that are rebelling, and then where would we be?