As someone who has completed a full marathon (and couldn't walk to prove it) and enough half marathons to loose count on occasion (7. I think 7), I know a few things about working out. I love yoga, dancing like a fool is so fun and runners high are great. Achieving fitness goals and working out are things to be proud of. I'm totally for being active, taking care of oneself and having a healthy lifestyle, especially now that I am a parent.
But god people, I so. don't. care. about your workouts.
You signed up for a race? Awesome! You can fit into a smaller size after working on that for months? Wonderful! Quit smoking 3 years ago? Rock on! Hell, even I've posted about getting stuck in my sports bra, because flailing around like a T-rex is hilarious.
But: Mention you got up at 4 am again to use your favorite treadmill at the gym? Ran 4.13 miles on run keeper? Announce you're 17 days into your wheat grass/acacia berries/organic unicorn hair-diet lunch? Instagramed the kettle bells that were "torture but OMG soooo worth it?" And posted some little workout quip along the lines of sweat is fat crying leaving your body- all within 12 hours?
STFU.
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