Last week, I finally started feeling well enough to start exercising again. As you may know, I've had a bad run with sinus infections and mono, so a boost in energy came as a wonderful sign as summer begins.
My workout regime is very, well, routine. I stretch out on the yoga mat, punch and dance around with my beefy 2 pound weights, ride the stationary bike, and end with ab work and more stretching. Nothing crazy. I went down stairs to prep the room, and decided to put my headphones on while I was still upstairs.
Blasting music is the best part of exercising. I love getting pumped up. I have a tendency to get way too caught up in them sick beats and end up singing along or trying to scream and bike. I'm sure I've alarmed the mail man a time or two.
As I unfurled the yoga mat, I could no longer suppress the urge to sing along with slow motion Adele. Her smooth, deep, remixed voice rang in my ears as whatever I sounded like rang out through the basement. Thank the sweet babby jeebus for noise cancelling headphones.
Still recovering from my traumatizing antics, my mum coaxed me to to go back down and finish my workout, despite my aversion to returning to the scene of the incident. The door to the nerd lair was open a crack, uncharacteristic of a room with bros in it. My mum came down to see what was really going on, lo and behold, no one else was here.
My brother's shoes are usually obvious because my brother is a giant and he wears a 13, or a 14, or some other monstrous size. However, his friends are pretty tall too. This shoe pile looked deceptively small. The angle of the shoes played an optical illusion on me. Yes, I was tricked by inanimate objects.