If they made a movie of these last few days of my life, it would be a B-grade horror flick called "Attack of the Zombie Uterus."

Woo HOO! Bodily Functions! Welcome to the wonderful world of on-line writing where we proudly live by the motto, "There Is No Such Thing As Too Much Information."

Generally my internal organs and I have a very live and let live attitude towards each other. Oh, there has been the odd spot of trouble, for sure. I distinctly recall a series of ugly incidents in my 30's involving my gall bladder. Because of its bad attitude, that organ was kicked off the premises. I think the others took note because, as I've said, it's been mostly clear sailing.

About a year ago I slipped into what I thought was the serene waters of menopause. There was the odd thermal incident, but I didn't experience the hellacious sweats and other scary symptoms several of my friends endured. I was getting pretty darned smug. I figured my uterus had gone to its eternal rest.

Then a few months ago I had a visit from Aunt Flo. My doctor told me it wasn't unusual, not to worry.

Last month Aunt Flo came back again. Crap.

Yesterday Aunt Flo re-appeared, along with that no good Uncle Crampy and those unwashed spawn of theirs Moody and Bitchy. I thought she was dead, but clearly I am host to The Zombie Uterus From Hell.

The wise thing to do would have been to retire to my bed and hope that painkillers would bitch slap Uncle Crampy into abandoning Aunt Flo and the kids. So, of course, I chose another path. I decided to see if I could exercise my way out of the discomfort and headed down to my gym.

Where I was, of course, a little happy ray of sunshine.

Not.

First, I did my elliptical run so I'd at least have the comfort of breaking 350 miles, leaving me less than 150 miles to go in that freakin' 500 Mile Project. That gave me lots of time to fume about the stupidity of announcing a New Year's Resolution In A Public Forum.

Yes, I was ALL about the positivity.

As I was surveying the almost empty gym, I noticed that there was a weightlifting guy in his early 40's setting up four or five stations simultaneously. It looked like he was setting up to do a rotation, which is a very efficient workout but it locks up mass quantities of gym equipment. I could feel my mood darkening even more.

My run takes 35 minutes. I decided that maybe he would be through his workout when I was ready to begin mine. He was not. I decided to use a few machines in the hope he would clear out. He did not.

Normally, I wouldn't make an issue of something such as this. Normally, I'd just set my free weight workout routine aside and do other things. But yesterday, yesterday I was a woman under the control of The Zombie Uterus From Hell. I marched up to him. I told him I would like to do my squats NOW and that there was no way I could unload the 100 pound weights he had put on each side of the bar.

I think he was about to tell me that he was not done HIS workout, but then he made the wise move of looking me in the eyes. The Zombie Uterus From Hell glared back at him from the depths of my being.

Without a word he unloaded the weights.

Even better, when he later saw me walking towards the bench press, he unloaded the weights from that without me even asking.

Forget cheese. You want to see real power?

Behold, the power of the uterus.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 351.77 miles (566.1 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers