Auntie Megan is a competative weightlifter. I am not. So when she said, “Hey Sandie, let’s go find a gym and work out.” I should have run, far far away. But no, I said “okay”. Because I am an idiot.
2 hours later , battered, sweat soaked, hardly able to lift my legs, or arms, or head, I dragged my near-corpse across the parking lot and collapsed into the front seat of the beloved Honda minivan.
Megan, bounces out of the gym, and says: “that was great, what time are we going tomorrow?”