This is my first attempt at blogging, so forgive me if it sucks.

So anyway, I was up this morning at the butt crack of dawn for my Pilates session with Suzanne over at Body Business Davenport. My session used to be at 1:30, after I'd had a coupla meals and was at my peak energy. Today, I was dragging. I didn't wake up 'til just before 6:00, and my appointment was for 6:30...just enough time for me to throw on some clothes and wipe the crust out of my eyes.

Now normally when I get up in the morning, I have a big bowl of Special K with red berries (why they can't just call 'em strawberries, I don't know). Today, I was running out of time, and since I haven't mastered driving with my feet, I knew I couldn't eat and drive. I downed a tall glass of milk and ran out the door.

This was my third Pilates session with Suzanne, but the first time I had to do it so early in the morning. Everything went great. Suzanne said she was amazed at how quickly I've caught on. I was a little amazed myself.

I admit the first time I walked in and saw all the torture devices, I was a little nervous. But Suzanne said, "Don't worry, it is a lot worse than it looks." After I flashed that look of fear, she corrected herself, "I mean it looks a lot worse than it is." Flash forward a coupla weeks later, and I'm thoroughly enjoying myself.

So here's the fun part. But not really. I'm driving home, I've gotten onto Mopac, and suddenly my mouth is watering...in that I'm about to throw up kinda way. My stomach is cramping, and I'm spitting into a half filled water bottle I'd left in the car, while praying to God not to let me spew all over the interior. Luckily, I made it home without incident, had a coupla eggs, and got dressed to start my day.

The moral of the story: don't exercise on an empty stomach, idiot.