I feel exceptionally guilty because I have always been so conscious about the food I eat on a regular basis. Before my friends fall off their chair, I confess, Yes, I do go on binges. Yes, I have eaten chana-batura for weeks in a row. Yes, I do eat like a man sometimes. But mostly, I make a sincere effort to detox, before I can re-tox .
Jokes apart, I have usually been proud of my daily staple. Until lately. I remember a recent night where after an evening snack of cheese sandwich, I have eaten a dinner of potato wedges and then pounced at a chocolate bar at one in the night. Then it felt too sweet on the palette so I topped it all with salsa sauce with crackers. I can't be blamed! It was one in the night. Staying up late always makes me hungry. Doesn't it happen to everyone?
To be honest I can't blame my work entirely for lack of muscle movement cause I always believed when there's a will, there's a way. Thus, yesterday although being pooped out post work, I was undeterred from my decision to do a workout routine at home. After an hour of searching on Google, bored yet unfazed I found something interesting. :) Belly Dancing Basic lessons.
I was overcome with so much excitement that I didn't realize until forty minutes later that I have only been doing the warm ups and it was almost 11 in the night. I was a midnight-belly-shaking-night-suit-clad-freak. Next day I had a cramp on hips. I can't even explain that cramp to anyone! Not happening.
I contemplated the whole of today about rejoining my aerobics classes but I realized I will go cuckoo if I have to do that jump-touch-toe-jump-touch-toe routine even one more time. I decided, I will do power yoga. That's it. If Kareena can do it, so can I. I looked up videos on net. I did my stretches and warm ups. Finally, by the time I got down to business I was exhausted, whiny and yawny. Next thing I knew, I was stretching in bed. Nightie Night.
