This morning's Back & Biceps workout was uneventful, but by the time Ab Ripper X started, my preschooler had popped out of bed and into the garage. "Good morning, daddy!" he chirped.
"'Morning," I grunted while forcing my legs straight while scissoring them.
My son walked over and stood directly above me, with one leg on either side of my head. "FASTER, daddy -- FASTERFASTERFASTER!"
"No, you see, we're supposed to wait until he tells us to--"
And at that moment, my kid (who hasn't yet mastered the skill of saying it and not spraying it) lets fly a gob of drool that lands squarely in my mouth.
It's both gross and funny (or, as my wife would say, gross is funny), but my laughter only encourages my son to find other ways to distract me. During my Hip Rock & Raise set, he playfully kicks my head with each rep. During Pulse-Ups, he spins around with a baseball bat like a helicopter. And during V-Up Roll-Ups, he takes an empty cannister of protein formula and tries to roll it under my head.
"How many seconds until you're done, daddy?" he finally demands.
There's little point in trying to finish the last two exercises. "I'm done now, kiddo. Let's eat breakfast."
[UPDATE: I never did finish Ab Ripper X today, but I ran the Lake Merced Loop twice after work for a total of 9 miles, give or take. And once again, my calves are insanely sore from running barefoot.]
