So I'm halfway through my second week back to school and I'm already missing sleeping in, eating pancakes for breakfast on a Wednesday, laying in bed browsing Pinterest foreversssss, and eating cake for lunch. Well the cake for lunch thing doesn't depend on if I'm on break or not, but you know. Being back to normal life has me hurting. My brain. My heart. {dramatic.} My abs. Seriously did someone somehow punch me in the stomach without me knowing errrrrr what?
The thing about being a blogger is that you pick and choose what you share. I think everyone tends to leave out the awkward or embarrassing parts and that ends up painting the picture of a perfect person. And I am far from that. So lest you people think I'm not totally loony and don't make a fool out of myself constantly, I'm gonna tell you a funny story. That happened at the gym this afternoon. It's already wonderful, isn't it?
So at my gym, there's this really tiny trainer and this really huge trainer. The huge trainer is really serious, intimidating, has a freakishly low voice, and his biceps are about the size of a watermelon. When I started going to the gym, I kid you not, he scared the crud out of me and I would fumble trying to figure out how to turn the treadmill on for like HOURS {dramatic.} rather than ask him for help. As time went on, the tiny trainer ended up being my trainer- less scary, ya know.
ANYWAYS. Today, I noticed I had squats as part of my program and I was dying a little bit inside because the gym was packed and I hate squatting in front of people. I mean, is it even possible to enjoy that? Not after watching some girl nearly touch her booty to the floor and bounce up effortlessly. When I moved over to the squatting cage {pretty sure that's not the right term.}, I asked my trainer to help me and give me some tips because I was pretty sure I wasn't doing it right.
WELL. No, he called the other trainer to help me. Oh my gosh you guys, I wish I could have just ran out of there like the speed of light. As he meandered on over to me, he set up the barbell, explained what to do, and made me face the WALL. After he walked away, I decided I'd had enough of staring at a wall and sticking out my butt for all the world to see so I thought I'd move the hooks so I could squat the other way. BAD IDEA, YOU GUYS. BAD. I. DEA. Bolts went flying, dinging off of this thing and that thing. My friend tried to help me move the barbell and we nearly hit a few people in the schnoz. The huge trainer yelled to the tiny trainer that I needed to face the other way, and me being the stubborn brat that I am said I didn't want it that way.
MORAL OF THE STORY. I totally made a fool out of myself, made a crap load of noise, nearly took a few precious lives with a barbell, and made the trainer who already dislikes me dislike me a teensy bit more.
I'm trying to think of how to segway from that gem of a story to this smoothie, but can't really think of anything. So here ya go! A smoothie for your face! I think you'll love it. It tastes like dessert and you can totally have it for breakfast. Or if you're a freak stress-eater like me, eat it for lunch.
peach crisp smoothie
1/2 banana
1 frozen peach
small handful of raw walnuts
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tbsp. pure maple syrup
2 tbsp. oats
dash of ground cinnamon
2 tbsp. soymilk or other non-dairy milk
handful of ice
Place all ingredients in a blender and blend on high until smooth. Add more ice or milk as needed. Pour into a glass and serve immediately. Makes one large smoothie.













