This is me an hour after dryland training last night. An HOUR! And I still have tomato-ous face-eous.
You don’t even want to know what I looked out mid-workout.
Here’s the thing…I don’t sweat. Weird, right? No matter how hard I work out, the most I get is a sheen, with a few dots of perspiration here and there. This is me after running a 15k race (fast forward to 3:58. Also if you stick around until 4:45, you’ll see how I ruined an entire shot with my bored face). Instead of sweating I turn redder than a babboon’s ass. I once had someone come over to me at the gym and ask if I was okay because he was worried I was going to have a stroke and I had to explain that I was completely okay except for the fact that I may possibly be cooking all of my internal organs. Then I took another sip of water.
Hockey Skating Husband has nicknamed me seal skin. Don’t get me started on my other nickname, Twig, which has nothing to do with how tall and slender I am and everything to do with how I hold everything in until I snap which actually does make me want to snap.
The point is, if you see me working out and I’m red, I’m not dying, I’m just not sweating.
And please don’t tell me my face looks like a babboon’s ass. There’s only so much I can take.