Survived almost unscathed in my second Christmas, on Monday I decided to give a boost of energy to pigrissima my life: I went to the gym! Well yes dear friends, after months of delay and references I took courage and went 4-hands "in that place where you become figs" and where the walls are plastered with young girls all puppe and white teeth. I, too, of course I made with the complete studio: funky pants, tops and t-shirt hot strong ... Then, after 45 min of treadmill, stepper, rowing machine and a pseudo my image has been transformed: sweaty from fear with a swallow's nest hair and red face that even after a day at sea, a monster. I approached the mirror because I wanted to stretch e. .. aah ... oh God ... how horrible! Then you turn around and see those not, those nice and dry Rachi, who are they, on their steppuccio, chat serene and not break down one iota, not a drop of sweat, that nervous!
Luckily my two boys that make me scompisciare with the bicentenary of the super-grandfather calves of steel and bring me back to reality!
If I had known I'm the one with the black pants and blue top. You know, I took a few pounds, that's why I go to the gym, not!
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