The other day, Conlin said the following:
"Summers off aren't supposed to refer to your hygiene."
I think he was referring to the pattern I've developed:
1. Go to spin class.
2. Contemplate showering but decide What's the point? I have to coach later, anyway.
4. Contemplate not showering again because I'm just going to another spin class in the morning. Except for this time I *cough* normally end up showering.
The logic behind this routine is this: if I'm already gross and sweaty, I'll be less reluctant to get gross and sweaty again. Solid, no?
In other news:
I tried a saltwater flush this morning. The operative word being tried.
A saltwater flush requires that you chug a quart of salty, warm water. The first couple sips are reminiscent of broth; quickly, though, it begins to taste like vomit. And thirty-two ounces is no joke. But, in the name of good health, I sat down with my mugs of salt water and began to guzzle. It only took me about 12 ounces to start feeling really sick [I was teary-eyed and muttering anguished exclamations even though I was without an audience], but pushed through determined to wash out all the gunk in my body.
Turns out, though, I was only adding gunk. Because I used the wrong type of salt, which renders the process ineffective.
I can't even-
[Insert sympathetic expletive here.]