In which I prove my lack of coordination, gain sore muscles, and pay homage to a Kardashian. The other day my feet fell asleep for no reason. Because I am a rational, pragmatic, calm, stable woman, I immediately assumed that this was a sign of early onset diabetes. Which sent me into a flurry of determined aerobic activity, in hopes of bringing my health up to snuff and staving off debilitating disease. I put on my sneakers posthaste, tuned my ipod the the Ke$ha songs I guiltily secret in the category of "only listen to when other people aren't around" and ventured forth into my neighborhood. Things went fairly well. I walk-jogged for about 35 minutes, up and down a couple hills, and made a nice loop through some attractive houses. As I neared home, full of confidence and pride, I decided to add a little excitement to the workout. What Kourtney K looks like I had recently read a feature in SHAPE magazine about Kourtney Kardashian and the workout that keeps her sa
food for the body, nourishment for the soul