Yesterday was an immense exercising day.

I walked 1.5 miles on campus, ran 2 miles to class, and then ran 8 miles at night.

Hey guys/fellas/men/boys…  This is about to get really personal in a girl way.  

So you might wanna stop reading this.

I did not want to go for the evening run.  I tried to talk myself into cuddling in the fetal position on my couch with a bowl of popcorn and Dancing With The Stars.  But I knew that I needed this.  I had been having menstrual cramps straight from hell all day and I knew that running would make it all better.

After 3.5 miles, my uterus and gut wanted to explode.  And if I didn’t stop to walk, it probably would have.  I walked a couple of minutes, and the flatulence unleashed like a big angry pitbull.  Apparently, the same hormones that cause the endometrium lining to shed during menstruation also cause contractions of the gut — leading to increased flatulence and even diarrhea!  

Back to my flatulence …. so after releasing my painful gas and contributing to more global warming, I went back to running and never stopped!  8 miles, you’re mine.

Bloated, gassy, happy mess.

I don’t jog. I run. Jogging is for senior citizens who put on polyester track suits to only run 1 mile, only to not run for another week.

xoxo

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