I bet you thought I died.

I thought I was going to, for a couple days. I think I posted that I was sick. I had the flu. I was so sick, I called in to work!!! I never call in for my own health. If my kid is sick and I can't get a sitter, I will call in (and feel guilty about it). So you know I was sick as hell if I said I couldn't come in. My son, bless his heart, thought he could stay home from school and take care of me. Nice try, kiddo. Get your ass to school.

I recovered enough to join the fucking roller derby. Yep. I finally joined the local league. Well, I'm not officially on the team because I have to meet the minimum skills requirements before I can play. Right now, I can skate around the track. That's about it. My crossovers suck, I can't stop the way I'm supposed to, and I sure as shit don't have the endurance needed to make 27 laps in 5 minutes. I'll get there, though. I am serious enough about this that I bought my own equipment and haven't skipped a practice. And I love it. I have anxiety all day about going, but once I get my skates on, I love it.

And let me say, I come home from practice hungry as hell! I am not watching what I'm eating at all. I suck. And I don't really care.

I'm not doing anything formal in terms of exercise until after Labor Day. I have a job for the summer that is going to keep me very active, I will be working 7 days a week for the entire summer, and quite frankly, when I get home, I just want to go to crash. Practice for roller derby is two hours, twice a week. And that's all I'm committing to at the moment.