My friend Dorothy and I recently started this workout called Pure Barre. Have you heard of it? I like to refer to it as hell on earth while I'm in one of the hour-long classes, but afterwards I feel like a million bucks. It basically unleashes a full-blown attack on your abs, thighs, arms and butt (aka the seat) and makes you shake so violently that you're convinced everyone around you is wondering what on earth is wrong with you.
But this post is not really about how I'm trying to achieve a six-pack that will probably never be. It's about why, and its name is froyo. Frozen yogurt is literally the next best thing to breathing — low-fat and non-fat yogurt in delicious flavors like cookies-and-cream and red velvet topped with strawberries and Reese's. BRB, going to get some now.
But really. This is the treat I sometimes like to get post-Pure Barre when I'm done cursing my body for being so out of shape. It's 7:45 p.m., I've just finished an intense workout, it's 145 degrees outside and all I can think about is that cold, delicious goodness. Now I just need to figure out if it's possible to make this stuff at home so I don't have to keep holding my breath at the cash register hoping my froyo weighs less than $4 worth. I mean, I'm trying to maintain a budget here.
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