I'm a Bad Influence

Today was our first official, full-length dryland workout--25 minutes of "down time" and two sets of ab exercises.  The Boys (Sprinter and Inliner) had other things to do so it was up to the four of us women to get the job done.  And we did, and it was fun.  Hard work, but fun.

And then we went out to the parking lot and I gave everyone donuts.

Well, almost everyone.  New Girl, who, now that I know her a bit better, shall be Coe Girl, resisted the temptation.  But Mel, RollerDome Girl and I dove into the donuts like a pack of starving hyenas.  And they were particularly good donuts, too--chunky, frosted, old-fashioned ones.  ("Chunky."  "Old Fashioned."  Hmm, it's true--I am what I eat!).

I didn't intend to dispense sugar and trans fats to my workout buddies; it just kind of happened.  I had stopped at the grocery store on the way to the oval in search of more of the new supplement I'm taking--the one that seems to be effecting a nice reduction in the perimenopausal "I want to rip someone's head off" mood swings.  Sadly, the supplement was nowhere to be found...but there were the donuts, all white-frosting-with-chocolate-drizzles-covered, sitting forlornly on the sale table.  "The Hubster likes donuts," I thought, and so six of them found their way into my cart.  And then, well, we were halfway through the workout and I started saying I was hungry and everyone else agreed and Mel needed sustenance after the workout for her bike ride home and, well, one thing led to another...and now I'm officially a bad influence on the others.

I don't mind; it was a good workout--and they were really good donuts.