Dumbfounded

Okay, something is wrong. Very wrong.

I woke up this morning and the first thought that came into my head besides hoping that my lovely husband remembered to lift the toilet seat was, "I cannot wait to run at the gym tonight".

I'm not kidding.

I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised because in the last several years, many assumptions that I've held for a lifetime have been blown to hell.

For instance, I honestly believed that a good marriage was an oxymoron. It's not like I grew up with a shining example of functional matrimony so I really didn't have a clear frame of reference. Thus, my Goldilocks approach to husbands where the first was too gay, the second too macho and finally finding the love of my life, is completely understandable, right? There are still those days, though, that I can't believe I'm in a marriage this good. DIDN'T SEE THAT ONE COMING.

Also, who knew that vegetables could be so delicious? For most of my life, I avoided most things green. I have vivid memories of choking down slimy cooked spinach saturated in vinegar and praying to God that I didn't gag in front of my father. Or trying to make it through a dinner of canned asparagus in a hateful, creamed, mess served on toast. I remember sitting down at the table wondering how I was going to survive some of those meals. Even after my kids were born, my vegetable purchases were limited to lettuce, corn, carrots and frozen peas. I'm not sure when it happened (probably a result of some freaky diet I tried) but I started buying different vegetables listed as ingredients in new recipes and OH MY GOD! It's as if the lights were finally turned on. Maybe it is the difference in preparation. Maybe my palate has changed. All I know is that I feel so grown up and responsible now.

Finally, there is this whole exercise thing. I had read that it could become addictive but who believes that crap? Addictive like a root canal, I thought. However, I had resigned myself to the certain knowledge that if I wanted to give myself a fighting chance to remain disease-free in middle age and beyond, I'd have to exercise, vigorously.

Every. Stinking. Day.

And we have, since the beginning of October. It hasn't been all sunshine and roses, though. There have been times that I have wanted to hurt my husband in all his cardio glory. He bloody rhapsodizes about the speeds he gets up to and the distances he runs while I eyeball the timer wondering how the fuck fifteen seconds can FEEL LIKE AN ETERNITY. I have been red-faced, huffing, wheezing, bent over, nauseated, sweat trickling down my face, between my boobs and staining my back, unable to talk, exhausted. I have lifted weights until I couldn't lift my coffee cup to my lips. I have grudgingly EXERTED.

Until this morning.

I haven't a clue what transpired in the eight hours that I slept last night but some sort of threshold was crossed. I feel great and for the first time in my life, I am genuinely looking forward to the treadmill tonight.

So, it's official.

Hell hath frozen over.