I'm really trying to exercise everyday. My blood sugar counts have been terrible lately. My last A1c was 7.6. If you know what an A1c is, you know that's bad. If you don't know what it is and are dying of curiosity, I will give you the universal answer to all quandaries in life: Google it. I don't mind explaining it; I just don't have time at the moment since I have to be at Academy when their doors open at 9 to buy a pair of track shoes and have them to the school before Zac leaves for a track meet at 10. We'll have diabetes education another day.
Anyway, yesterday I'm laying on the floor, doing Pilates. Nathan decides to join me. We're doing some side leg lifts, when he says, "AWWWWWW, I just popped my butt knuckle." That's it, I'm done. I cannot continue to exercise when I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe nor can I get up off the floor. (Further questioning revealed that the "butt knuckle" is in fact the hip socket.)
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