Okay, so if you know me AT ALL, you know I have a small touch of OCD. Okay fine, I'm an OCD superstar. Seriously, when I started working at the Summit, I replaced their 3-year-standing OCD employee by passing to eat a birthday cake that someone had blown on (Of course they blew on it! Can you say birthday candles?) and with simple, everyday phrases like, "Well, it's been 5 minutes. Time to wash my hands." But, I digress.
Two facts you'll need to find my story funny:
1. Brent and I have been working out together.
2. I cannot STAND public restrooms.
The car ride from GA to NC is pretty lenghy...6.5 hours lenghy, usually. I try to go to the bathroom right before we leave so I don't have to go while we're on the road. Well, I must've drank 15 gallons of water or something because I really had to go. (Funny, I don't remember drinking that much water...) So, thankfully we find a restaurant for me to go to the bathroom (I just don't go anywhere, you know), and as is the female custom of using public bathrooms, I don't touch ANYTHING with my bare hands (thank you, paper towels!), assume the squatty stance, do my thang, wash my hands throughly, use the paper towel to open the door, and leave. By the time I get back to the truck, it's been a little over 10 minutes. Now, here's where the exercising fact comes in. Brent and I did an hour of leg exercises (jumping, squats, lunges, plyos, etc) the day before. Needless to say, my legs were jelly. So, by the time I get back in the truck, I'm laughing at how hard it was to go to the bathroom! Of course Brent sees me laughing and asks what's up. When I tell him, his accusatory response was, "Ah ha! So that's how you can do wall squats so well!"
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