I don't like sweating. As in the wet and dripping type of sweat. Nope. I don't enjoy it. In fact, it grosses me out. Now, I already knew this about myself. But I confirmed it this morning.
I started the Couch to 5K program this week in an effort to get in better shape. I want to use some of that extra time I have now that both kids are in school to get more exercise. The first 2 days I followed the program inside on a treadmill in our neighborhood clubhouse. (And yes, I worked up a sweat, just not like today!) When I found it wasn't open yet this morning, I decided to go ahead and do the workout outside despite the heat and mugginess.
I knew it would suck. About half or three-quarters of the way through the 30 minute walk/run workout, I wanted to die. By the time I got back home and stretched, the sweat was pouring off me. Ick. Stretch laughed at me when I asked if you could be allergic to your own sweat. (My chest started itching at some point and when scratched, I found it was covered in a sheen of sweat. Ick. Ick. Ick.)
I also asked Stretch if he could just go ahead and shoot me to put me out of my misery. For some wretched reason, the man refused and kept grinning at me (and probably inwardly laughing).