Sometimes I’m a player.
I know. Hard core Amy up in these parts. Love ’em and leave ’em. But what’s a girl like me supposed to do? I love them both and they both know what I like. We got all sweaty at one date. The other was spent refueling with cheap drinks.
Weirdly enough, they know about each other. And are totally cool with it.
Clearly they know there’s enough Amy to go around.
Of course they do. Because they’re two of my friends. And going out on dates with them is way easier than actual dating. Because they don’t really care what I look like and there’s no awkward end of the night involved. Win.
The first was with Annie as a guest at her gym. She called last week after a new class she attended called R.I.P.P.E.D.. I’m not sure what all the abbreviations are, but it involves 50 minutes of stretching, plyometrics, cardio, kickboxing, arms, and whatever else will get your heart rate up.
This is my summary of events:
1. It’s quite obvious I haven’t been in a group exercise class for at least 5 years. Awkward.
2. I can’t kickbox to save my life. Or really do any move that involves more than 4 or 5 steps. The calorie burn during that section was pretty low because I was too busy laughing at myself in the mirror. Again- awkward.
3. My triceps have been super ignored. This was already known, but when the instructor kept making us “pulse” at ever move during the arms section? It’s a wonder my entire arm didn’t just fall off completely. Which, looking back, may have hurt less.
All in all, even with my awkward ways, it was fun to do my cross training with Annie. Definitely a switch-up in the routine- which was welcomed. Yay for date night at the gym!
Afterwards, I drove my tired butt over to Gatsby’s Pub– one of the hole-in-the-walls Mon and I frequented when we were still neighbors. Cheap beer, cheap food, and quiet enough on a Monday night for us to freely conversate about everything we’ve been up to in the last month (Wait- month? We really need to start hanging out more. What have I been doing?!?!).
Maybe it was the cheap beer, or the mindless gossip, or the hour of strength training that just happened, but I was just as surprised as Mon was when it was time to order and I blurted out “steak quesadilla please!”What?
Here’s the thing. I went through a phase in high school where I wouldn’t eat beef. Really ironic, considering my dad is a cattle farmer. Maybe this was my way of rebelling as a teenager? Strange on all accounts.
Anyway, I warmed back up to the idea of hamburgers and such (who wouldn’t?), but steak was something I never developed a craving for again. Probably a texture thing?
And I don’t see myself ever really ordering a big t-bone anytime soon. But sometimes strips of it in a dish like this with cheese and guac? You’d do it, too…
Alright kids, wish me luck on my journey home tonight. Rain/snow/freezing rain is happening all day. Sounds about right. It is Tuesday, afterall…