It’s been getting into the hundreds ’round these parts during the day, which means if I want to run I have to get up at the ungodly hour of 6:45. I am not happy about this, but I am happy to run. Afterwards I bend my decidedly not-bendy body into all kinds of contortions because I am bordering on old-age (32!) and if I don’t stretch very, very well, I spend the rest of the day hobbling around the house trying to figure out what the heck I did to myself.
This is the only stretch I actually enjoy doing and that’s only because I pretend I am a ballerina whilst I do it. I am not- nor could I ever have been- a ballerina. Mostly because I am probably the least coordinated person on the planet. But for two minutes a day, I get to pretend I am.
This was the first shot I took, but then I decided it looked a little bit too much like a Nike Ad.
And if you want proof that I am completely unbendy- that’s as far as I can stretch. My hands will never lay flat on the ground. Never.