Can You Sweat Red Wine? Asking For Myself.

I went to see P!nk in Montreal this weekend. I am sure some of you know this, as I obviously had to share it on social media. I will rank this experience right up there with the birth of my daughters because P!nk, in the words of my eleven year old, is so freaking rad. 

It may have been the concert itself, or the combination of a weekend away with the girls, with little more to worry about than where we would eat our next meal, but this weekend felt too good to be true. 

I'll share some photos below, if you care, but the point of this post isn't to share or brag that I was lucky enough to have a weekend away, but to share how that debaucherous weekend away will manifest itself on my first day back at the gym. 

I know it will be bad. We had Mimosas for breakfast and wine with lunch. We stayed up until the wee hours each night enjoyed the air-conditioned rooms of hotels with sweet energy plans and wine and snacks galore (and not snacks like trail mix and dried fruit, but rather pizza and poutine), and all the while we enjoyed the warm fuzzy feelings that accompany the thought that you can sleep-in the next day. If you have young children, this may seem like a fantasy, but I promise you, if you can organize a girls' trip away, this too can be​ you. Also, can I come?

Now a few times during the weekend, the thought of the gym would sneak back into my mind, but then I would pop an overpriced gourmet caramel into my mouth and force the horrid thought out. This was my vacation, after all, and while I have enjoyed the gym (if that's the right word), I was not going to let the idea of it stop me from indulging, and indulge I did. 

But now I am back. Reality punched me in the brain this morning when my alarm announced that I would be back to work teaching a very busy grade two class and follow that up with a visit to the gym right after work. 

The workout, as is posted each night, and most of the time means very little to me (with its HSPU's and CTB's), actually scares me this time. Now, I always know that the workout will kick my ass, but this is the first time since I began five months ago, that I will be attending the workout after spending the weekend eating like...well....my old self and drinking like, well...I guess that's all me, too.

I expect I will be sweating out litres of red wine and burning off the fresh buttery croissants only a Montreal bakery can provide.  I expect I'll be angling to get a spot by the fan, and the heat that will radiate from my overindulged self will likely burn a hole right through the gym floor. 

​I'll be back later to update this post. 

Wish me luck!

*****UPDATE

It sucked and then I died