If you haven’t noticed the pattern yet, you should. I didn’t post on Friday because of that mommy job that interferes and messes with my routine. LittleOne was sick again and not able to go to daycare, so I was her jungle gym on Friday instead of the planned lunch date with ShaunT. I won’t complain because I did make up for it.
Friday night I hit the treadmill for a 4mile run. 38:39
Sunday was spent hanging out at my second home, the fun one with grandparents (aka..the one I don’t have to clean!) The negative of that house? Is the candy container that is always stocked with peanut M&Ms. April, in an emotional or hormonally weakened state around chocolate of any sort is not a good thing.
So it called for another treadmill run. 3.1miles at 29:47.
I do have to backup and share an awkward realization from dinner last night. Not my food choices, because that was actually on point, but more about Instagram creepin’ meets real life, and the reality of age. I don’t know the algorithm or settings for Instagram and how it recommends things or people to you in the popular feed but somehow I had found a fledgling bodybuilder dude. I immediately knew of the area he lived and worked around just based on his references online and such but didn’t think much of it. I mean I live and work in Austin now, but grew up and did high school in San Antonio but honestly only run into people I know about once a year in either city. They are both pretty large cities.
Enter dinner last night with my parents and kidlets. And then after a quick walk by of a person in a particular restaurant, I realize ‘gee, that guy looks familiar, like a guy who rarely wears a shirt type…’ Enter the Instagram feed and realize that yes (with 95% certainty) that this person who is fully clothed in front of me is also a competitor person I’ve
oogled witnessed for the last couple months while prepping and showing off the 'gainz' you read about.
And then I'm a dork with a goofy grin that I just spotted a random IG person in real life.
But then the sad realization that it is downright inappropriate when the person in real life…
is barely of legal age (19)
And then the uber sad realization that makes it even harder
I’m old enough to be his mother.
How was ya'lls weekend??
eta: I am relieved it wasn't truly Norman because I would have gone all teenager fangirling on him.