Miracle...

To be completely honest, I have found it very difficult to get back into the swing of things ever since my personal training sessions ended. Maybe it's because I have no obligatory appointment to make and it now rests solely on my shoulders to make it to the gym, but I just haven't been as thrilled about exercise, lately. And this makes what I am about to tell you that much more amazing.

This morning I randomly began the day with $20 in my pocket. I never carry cash because it's so easy for me to spend. I know the whatever I do with the cash I have on hand won't directly affect my bank account and so I often make foolish decisions with that cash. This morning is no exception. On my way out the door I decide to go to the convenience store that is next door to my house and purchase two $10 scratch cards. What did I tell you? I make foolish decisions with my cash.

I drive to work with these tickets sitting in my front seat, listening to the radio and contemplating the day I have ahead of me. I tend to get very reflective when I'm driving by myself. I pull in to the parking lot and enter the office, tickets in hand. I spend a few minutes busying myself with checking voicemails and emails, sorting through some paperwork, and wishing I was still back in bed asleep before I finally decide to see what I didn't win. And this is what I find:

That's ten $50 wins, baby

I am so stunned, I can hardly believe it. Please note that I am in NO WAY ADVOCATING lottery tickets. They are a huge waste of money and you will rarely win anything. That being said, occasionally luck is on your side and you win $500. Oh what I could do with this money! And then I realize what I must do. I must purchase additional personal training sessions. And that's exactly what I do. After work I go to the gym and use that $500 towards the purchase of sixteen additional personal training sessions with Justin. And then I go to Target and edit my availability so that I always have Tuesdays and Thursdays off to do my personal training for the next eight weeks, because I am not going to do what I did last time and not take full advantage of this opportunity to be trained. I can't have a blog about losing weight and working out if I only work out once a week.

I also do yoga when I get home, because now that I'm re-committing myself to exercise (for what seems like the eighth or ninth time) I'm going to recommit myself in every facet of my life. It's an exciting twenty minute yoga workout because: I do my 'runner's lunge' without my knee on the ground,  I do my planks on my toes instead of my knees, and I am actually able to lower myself to the ground slowly instead of simply dropping face down to the floor like a buttered piece of toast.

I even grocery shop and buy Tupperware so that I can make myself some salads to bring to work instead of eating unhealthy food off of the food truck, and I buy new gym shoes. Guys, life is awesome. I'm so excited about what will happen during the next two months, provided I can keep this motivation up. I hope you'll enjoy reading about it as much as I'll enjoy telling you about it. 

Relaxation...

I should really just stop trusting people. I make a plan to go to yoga at the gym this morning because I think it will be a great way to start my Sunday. My coworker Megan tells me about how she used to go all the time and had a really good time and it was really easy. Great. I don't really feel like going crazy hard today, anyway. 

I show up at the gym and it's a mostly older crowd. How hard can this really be if people who could be my grandma can do it? Plus, I've done some yoga at home so I assume I'm going to be amazing. Not the case, ladies and gentlemen. The class starts out normal enough with some gentle stretching, nothing too crazy going on, but we very rapidly move into territory that I am so unfamiliar with that I'm tempted to fake a low blood sugar so I can excuse myself with what looks like an actual reason.

One particular women who is among the oldest in the class is the most flexible woman I have ever seen. One of the stretches we are supposed to do involves reaching one hand behind our backs and grasping our other hand that is coming from in between our legs. Yeah, not gonna happen. 

And then there's the planking. That awful planking where we are supposed to lift one hand and lift a foot and bake a casserole all while in a plank position. It's a good day if I can do a plank on my knees for thirty seconds and this teacher is asking me to do something that I can only liken to throwing a football fifty yards after mere hours of training. And truth be told, I don't know if that's an accurate representation because I know next to nothing about football. Is that even difficult?

The point is, this yoga workout is really hard. And my hamstrings are super tight from who knows what. This is honestly going to be the hardest thing about working out for me. The idea that it will always be hard if you're truly challenging yourself. You should never be doing something without breaking a sweat. The same exact workout may be easier, but if you want results, you have to increase the difficulty. 

After class is over, I give Megan a piece of my mind, but I do it very kindly with some sarcasm thrown in there because, truth be told, I feel awesome. My muscles are awake and I feel limber and flexible. So I decide I'm going to go for a swim. Tragically I forgot my goggles when I left this morning so I edit my swim down to a quarter mile given the circumstances. 

Consumption...

Who's bad? I'm bad. I do not go to the gym today. I seriously consider it and up until an hour and a half before my class starts I'm convinced I'll be going. But then I get a text that a birthday dinner is happening at Texas Roadhouse for some friends and there is no way I can pass that up.

But I don't forgo exercise all together. As soon as I find out I will be going to dinner instead of the gym I pop in my yoga DVD and sweat in preparation. And it's a tough workout to get through. My calf makes a lot of the stretching hurt. But it's a good hurt, because I know it's working this awful knot out.

I'm also not that jazzed to be doing this workout. I don't put in the same amount of effort that I usually do, but I stick it out and force myself to finish. I even try my hand at yelling at the TV. Instructor: "Twist up. Woo feel that unbelievable stretch. I think I just adjusted my back." Snarky me: "Shut up, you idiot. You say that every time." 

So yeah, I shirk going to the gym in favor of consuming a ridiculous amount of calories. Bad decision on the surface, but it was also to celebrate the birth of friends and spend some time with fun people, so a win in terms of my mental stability. And I don't go completely overboard. I choose to save enough for lunch tomorrow instead of eating it all in one sitting. I even limit myself to two of the DELICIOUS rolls and cinnamon butter they have.

In my past life (meaning before I started this whole gym/workout thing) I would have eaten probably 5 rolls, an appetizer and my entire pulled pork dinner and felt miserable afterwards. So I'm proud of myself for having self control and guess what?! I felt like I ate enough to hold me over. That was always my problem. I didn't want to stop because I liked the taste of things and I never felt the need to bring home leftovers. But the new me loves leftovers. Get used to it.

Birthday...

Exciting things happen in my life, today. For one, I turn 26. It seems to be a lot easier to turn 26 than it did to turn 25. Far less dramatic. And for my birthday, my coworkers surprise me with chinese food for lunch, a homemade chocolate cake, and fun gifts including straps for my yoga mat! Let me say again how awesome it feels to have so many people on my side and supporting me. It makes me feel really good and that my goals are totally and completely able to be accomplished.

This cake is the ice cream cake my family got me over the weekend.

Work cake pictures will come as soon as I receive them.

I drive home from work with a bunch of leftovers and arrive in my apartment to find Fit Andrew doing school work in his loft. Crazy lame. I tell him about my awesome day and he tells me about his rather uneventful one. Then, I watch an episode of Parks and Recreation and do yoga.

I only do an abbreviated version of yoga because I have a friend coming over before I go out to celebrate my birthday, but I still feel super great, afterwards. I attempt to convince him to come to the gym with me, but he doesn't have a change of clothes. So we play Mario Kart instead. The problem is, Joe is awful at Mario Kart, so that doesn't last long. But, while we're playing, I get a call from a number I don't immediately recognize, so I answer the phone. Who should be on the other end but Matt (previously referred to as Skinny Matt) calling to wish me a happy birthday!

Honestly, the Beverly Athl--... Anonymous Gym is really impressing me. They are really supportive and awesome. Yes, I hate to be approached while I'm working out, but I appreciate that this staff seems to all be on board with my goals and my process to reach them. It's those little bits of encouragement that make it bearable.

Pouty...

After a very standard day at work that featured a very difficult 1-minute plank, I drive home to my freezing cold apartment. I contemplate doing some cleaning, but I decide it would be much better to sit around and play MarioKart Wii. Who doesn't prefer video games to housework?

After losing and getting very angry, I decide I should probably clean. But cleaning morphs into removing the A/C unit in my room, which is obnoxiously heavy. And then I have to carry to to the storage room. Bam, cardio and weightlifting done for the day. I then realize that I have to wash my gym clothes, which have not been washed since Saturday and are foul. I throw them in the wash, now realizing that they will not nearly be done in time for a trip to the gym, tonight.

I decide to voice my decision to not go to the gym, and I am met with boos and hisses from my roommate, who tells me I really should go. And it's true, I should. But I really don't want to go in a shirt that is too snug and shorts that may give everyone an eyeful of things that I do not feel comfortable sharing with the world. Especially since I'm not being paid for it.

So, I do yoga, instead. After a series of days (3 total) of not doing anything remotely resembling exercise unless you count lifting a fork in the same motion as one would do bicep curls, I'm amazed by how difficult things are. If there was ever motivation to do yoga consistently, it's the fact that it sucks to start up again after a break.

I sweat a lot and I'm super whiny about the whole thing. If only I had remembered to wash my clothes before I found myself in this position, I would not be acting like such a baby. It all boils down to me being the reason that I can't go to the gym. What a life lesson that is. I am responsible for my own behavior. 

*As a general note, each blog post is made the day after the events in the post. For example, today is October 10th (my birthday, for those who are interested), but the content of the post happened on October 9th. Confusing, I know, but I'm pretty sure you can deal with it.

Patience...

So I freak out most of the day because I have my very first personal training session at the Beverly Athletic Club. Oops. I mean my anonymous gym. I am hella nervous (And no, I'm not ashamed that I used 'hella' in this post because I do what I want). The hours seem to drag as 7:00 approaches. I come home from work to a wonderful surprise. In an incredible act of kindness, I receive an early birthday present from a great friend. She has bought me my very own yoga mat. And she bought me an extra long one because I'm so tall. I can't wait to use it at Pilates on Saturday. I'm going to be the coolest person there. So let me say again, Thank You KP!

After that pleasant distraction, I clean some more because I'm incredibly antsy and I have nothing else to do. After what seems like days of waiting, I check the clock. It's only 5:45 and I have to wait another hour before I leave. Patience has never been a gift of mine, and today I am painfully aware of how not patient I am. I constantly pace through the house and fidget and squirm. Does that count as physical exertion?

I head over to the gym around 6:50 to meet my trainer at 7:00. I come in and none other than CJ is in the office. He cheerfully greets me and we have a brief conversation about my life. He is incredibly encouraging and kind and I start to feel guilty about judging him when I started at the gym. Plus, he makes reference to my blog so I'm pretty sure he's read it and I am thoroughly embarrassed. So CJ, if you're reading this, hopefully you've picked up on my sarcastic sense of humor and no that I tend to over-exaggerate. If not, I don't really know what to tell you.

I quickly change and come back upstairs to meet Justin, my trainer. I expected to have a trainer that was in good physical shape, but it's still my instant gut reaction to compare myself and feel inferior. We sit down and chat about what my goals are and I tell him the three main areas I want to work on are the Boobs, Belly, and Butt. The three B's, if you will. And you will, because I wrote them.

We talk for about half an hour and then he says we're going to go downstairs and he's going to kick my butt. Verbatim. Kill me now. We head to the cardio room first and where would he have me start but on the elliptical machine. I kind of hate you already, Justin. But at least he only makes me do five minutes and did I really think he wouldn't push me more than I would push myself? No. 

Then we go to the training room and he has me do push-ups, and side step with a band around my ankles. I can't do a real push-up to save my life, so he has me do standing push-ups, which are apparently also something I'm not incredibly good at. I alternate between those and the side steps, which are surprisingly difficult and my legs and butt really feel the burn after traveling maybe 10 yards.

After that, I get to take out my frustration by chucking a 20 pound exercise ball at the ground a total of 40 times. I'm convinced Justin miscounts at one point and I probably end up doing more like 43. Not that I'm bitter or anything. Then, I lay on my back on the floor and bridge it up to end the session. Surprisingly, I don't want to punch him in the face, but that may be because I barely have the strength to raise my arms above my waist. 

For those of you who don't know, this is 'bridge'. Minus those awful jeans.

Because we talked for the first half hour, he graciously offers to do another free half hour session next week, where he can kick my butt all over again. Why would I say no? This is what I signed up for. So I have another session to look forward to, next week. On my way home, I could cry because I have to strain to turn my steering wheel. Thanks a lot, Justin.

Inches...

I've been getting lazy with my juicing and have been eating more meals, which is depressing considering I only have a week left and should be able to suck it up and stick it out. So at work, I insist on planking for a full minute again. And I do 20 lunges for the 10 pieces of mail we get. And I do some glute squeezing just for the heck of it. Hey, every little bit helps, right?

So I get home from work and have made plans to do some cleaning in preparation for the arrival of my parents on Friday. It's some rough cleaning. There's a lot to be done. I work up a little bit of a sweat, but not enough to consider it a full workout. After cleaning, I do yoga for twenty minutes. As I continue to do it, I notice my ability has increased quite a bit. Poses that I used to struggle to hold, I don't have to worry about. Make no mistake, it's still hard, but I have more energy to commit to the difficult stuff instead of wasting it on the stuff that should be easy.

By the end, I'm good and sweaty; a feeling I've come to enjoy. I pack my gym bag (thanks Trusty Target Bag) and head to the gym for a dip in the pool. I arrive at the gym and change into my swimsuit. I decide I'm avoiding the weight room and doing lower impact things because I have a session with a personal trainer tomorrow and I'm sure to get my butt kicked.

I do a total of 30 lengths of the pool, which I don't think is even half a mile. I can't help but feel sad and pathetic, like the plants that are placed throughout the pool area. My arms burn and my legs burn and I think I may not have the strength to lift my head out of the water each and every time I submerge myself. At the conclusion of my swim, I once again thank the powers that be that I was the only person in the pool because the last thing I need is to feel like someone is watching me. 

Honestly, could a living thing look more depressed?

I do go into the steam room, again. This time I have the power to set the timer myself. I settle on 6 minutes, thinking I'll perform better when there is an ultimate and finite goal. I go inside and sit down and feel pretty bad-ass as the steam starts to full the room. 'This vapor form of water ain't got nothin' on me,' I think to myself in the most humble of internal narratives. I last a good while, too. I'm not sure at what point things head south, but I am suddenly aware of needing to constantly blink and I can't decide if I can't see because of the steam or if it's because I'm going to pass out. I decide to play it safe and leave. As I exit, I glance at the timer. I was 30 seconds away from my goal. So close.

I have noticed some physical change since this whole journey began. I have more space in the legs of my jeans. What a coworker once described as skinny jeans are fairly baggy in the leg. I have actual shoulder muscles and notice a difference between flexing and not flexing. I'm really glad I started this and I'm really excited to finish it. Plus, wouldn't it be kind of awesome if at the end of my journey I decided to become a personal trainer?

Burn...

I have to admit, I'm really enjoying this whole 'working out' thing. I am constantly and consistently forcing my coworkers to adhere to our Office Wellness program, and I get excited when I get to take 30 seconds to do planking. Today is no different, though Megan and I decide we'll be bold and plank for a full minute. Unfortunately, 45 seconds in to our planking, a customer stops in and ruins everything. So we do a 45 second plank and then a 30 second plank.

When I get home from work, Fit Andrew and I finish Resident Evil and then I start my yoga for the day. The yoga mat really does help. It gives me traction when I enter some of the more difficult poses. The planking at work is having an effect on my home yoga sessions because I can do the full 9 count plank without lowering to my knees like I used to have to do.

After the completion of my regular 20 minute workout, I decide to be a little adventurous and try the 12 minute 'Red Hot Core' workout. It's only an extra 12 minutes and I'm feeling super fit, so I tell myself this will be fine. Not the case. It's like Pilates day all over again. These exercises are ridiculous and make me realize that I do not have a whole lot of core strength.

One of the workouts I'm supposed to do is to lay on my back and alternate leg extensions. It is at this exact moment that I fully understand what it means to "work muscles I didn't even know I had". I feel the burn right under my sternum and it is quite the burn.

I'm even sweatier than usual after finishing the extra workout, but I still feel really awesome. I shower and after reflecting for 2 minutes on how much it sucks to shower and still be sweating when you're done, I clean for the rest of the night.

Shake...

I get home from work and my fit roommate is exercising. Gee, thanks for being so fit and still exercising and making me feel incredibly lazy. You're lucky you're so encouraging with my journey towards fitness or I'd want to kick you into a wall. Plus, it gives me good perspective that even fit people struggle and sweat while exercising, so I take it back. Keep up the good work Fit Andrew.

I have plans to go to Zumba with some friends later, but I still want to get in my yoga for the day. Fit Andrew has graciously bequeathed one of his old yoga mats to me, which makes a surprising difference in my workout. I don't fret about my sweat hitting the mat, I don't have to worry about getting crumbs on my back, and I don't slip around on the carpet when I do bridge pose. 

I leave for the gym as soon as I'm done with yoga and meet up with Christine and Lisa. Much like my Pilates experience, I'm the only male in the class and I'm the only person who has no experience with Zumba. This should be fun. After a brief explanation about what will be happening for the next hour, the instructor starts the music.

Let me take this opportunity to say, I have found my calling and my calling is Zumba. Zumba combines my need to workout with my desire to constantly bust a move. And I am REALLY good at busting a move. Many people are surprised to learn that I'm such a good dancer, but it's one of my favorite pastimes. The music is pumping and I'm jumping around, working my hips and flailing my arms in a very controlled way. I am oh so seductive. And 10 minutes in I am oh so sweaty. 

I mean, look at me go. I'm amazing.

Throughout the class, I do find myself having to modify the moves so that I don't keel over, but I surprise myself with my ability to keep up and have fun while exercising. The instructor comments on what a vocal class we are, and I credit myself for that. If anyone wants to do Zumba, I will absolutely go with you and you will absolutely have a blast. 

As the class winds down, we do a final stretching dance. This is the most fun I've ever had at a workout. One of the other members of the class, who must be a regular, tells my friends and me that we should come to the Sunday one too, because we made the class so much more enjoyable. You bet lady. You will see me there.

Crumbs...

So today I go on a moving job. My first ever moving job. This may sound odd because I work at a moving company, but I normally do office work, scheduling and in home estimates. Not today. Today, I go to a woman's house and help lift patio furniture and move it from her decks into her garage. Now, I had no idea patio furniture could be heavy and it mostly wasn't, but she has two umbrella stands that are really tough to move. It makes sense when I consider that these stands are the only things preventing the umbrellas from blowing into the ocean. Side note: this woman has a gorgeous view of the ocean. Even on a day that is as crappy as this one. Aside from that, everything goes fine. 

By the end of the move, I am soaking wet. The problem is, it rains for most of the day and I can't tell if I'm just covered in rain or covered in sweat. The wetness under my breasts lets me know that it is, in fact, mostly from sweating. But I get a tip from the lady so that makes it all worth it. That, and I consider this exercise because of how much I perspired. Maybe I should volunteer for moving jobs more often.

My evening workout is pushed up because I have friends coming over for a scary movie marathon, so I do yoga as soon as I get home from work. This is one of my favorite ways to workout not only because I can do it in the comfort and privacy of my own living room, but because it's the workout where I can see the most apparent change. I've become much more flexible and my endurance is getting better every day.

But it's also the workout where I sweat the most and where I'm the most aware of how sweaty I am. I constantly have to lay on my back and wet back against dry carpet is not a good feeling. Plus I always end the workout with crumbs on my back because, despite having a perfectly wonderful kitchen table, my roommates and I all seem to prefer eating on the couch in front of the TV. 

Be sure to check out the "Photo Progress" section of the blog and I'd appreciate any follows and shares.

Determination...

So I get home from work and after watching the series premiere of Modern Family and throwing my workout clothes into the washing machine, I decide to do yoga. Now, in the last few weeks of doing yoga, I've never been able to complete the workout without having to rest at some point during most of the exercises. Today, however, I complete the whole video without giving up on a motion once. Bam. I gotta say, I feel pretty awesome when I'm finished. But it instantly goes away because I realize I have left a lovely sweat spot on the carpet and I instantly become discouraged knowing that I'll have to clean that up, later.

But I won't be doing that right now because I am a sweaty mess and I need to rest. I toss my washed clothes into the dryer and realize, with much dismay, that I have sent my hot pink earbuds through the wash. But I test them out and they appear to still be working. Now I have to waste time while my clothes dry. I decide to browse the interweb for for a while and read up on some great butt exercises that I can do at home without the use of machines. I then go to get my workout clothes out of the dryer. Unfortunately my normal workout shirt has stuck itself to the wall of the washing machine and has not made it into the dryer. So basically, I sat around for nothing.

I grab a different shirt, throw on my shorts and head to the gym, because a wet shirt isn't going to stop me, today. I feel too awesome. I get on the bike when I get to the gym because I'm feeling adventurous. 25 minutes and a full bike dance routine to Want U Back by Cher Lloyd later, I head to the weight room for a day of legs. I use the calf machine, because I now know how. I'd love to give someone a tutorial if they'd like to come to the gym with me, sometime.

Then, I go to the glute machine, which is especially difficult, today. Maybe because I literally have no clue what my starting weight should be when I use a machine. They should have guidelines printed on the machine. Like, is it awesome that I can do 115 pounds on the triceps machine or is that below average. And what should I start with when I do bench presses to ensure I don't die when I try to lift it? When I'm done on the glute machine, some old guy comes up and asks what the machine is for. It's totes awkward to talk to an old guy about a machine that works your butt. 

I do a few more exercises and when I get up to grab a cloth to wipe down the machine, old guy swoops in and starts to use it. Enjoy that, old guy. You're sitting in my butt sweat.

In case you were worried that I was too attractive while at the gym...

May I also take this opportunity to ask that you follow my blog? Simply sign in with your free Google account and click 'Join This Site' on the left. You'll be informed when a new post is made and I'll look really cool. Thanks in advance.

Juiced...

I'm only feeling pressured to post during the week, because I have a life. Take any weekend posts as a wonderful gift from me to you.

I wake up around 12:30pm because I was working until 4:00am last night. And I had to fight to not wake up at 8:30am. Why? Because my body is stupid and false into a routine. I do not feel like exercising, so I grab my juice and do very moderate things that could be considered physical activity. Like laundry, for example. Don't mock me, laundry can be an exercise, especially if you've got as much as I do. My laundry basket is really heavy. Plus I dance while I do it.

I also continue with my juicing. I've been juicing 2 meals a day for 2 weeks. Because I know all of you are curious, no, I do not get particularly hungry. But I do frequently get nostalgic when I think about what it was like to chew food. If you're interested in juicing, look it up on the internet because I am not doing your research for you. Be an adult. But here is the fancy juicer that I own, should you be interested.

It works really well, but cleanup can take a while.

I do an abbreviated yoga session and make sure that I do not idly sit in front of the TV. I do a wonderful set of those exercises that remind me of a Jane Fonda workout video, or the exercises we used to do in elementary school gym class. 

Similar to this, but without all that 80s glam

Beautiful buns and thighs, here I come.

Sickness...

Despite feeling ill, I decide I still need to workout and rather than infect everyone at the gym, I stay home. Another day of yoga in the living room. The only problem with this decision is that I have short ceilings in my apartment and a lot of the stretches involve lengthening my spine with my arms over my head. Impossible to do when I only have 4 inches of clearance between the top of my head and the ceiling. So I adjust, and hope that I'm not doing serious damage to my body, as a result.

It's a rough workout. My arms are incredibly sore from the lifting that I've done recently, and I can think of nothing more appealing than lying on the couch and watching the sad sacks in the video do the workout while I stuff my face full of Funyuns. But that would be foolish.

Sweat is pouring off of me and I start to realize that regardless of my fitness level, I will ALWAYS sweat if I'm doing it right. This is an incredibly depressing thought. I hate the feeling of sweating. I understand that it has to happen, on a biological level, but I really think I'd prefer whatever the consequence of not sweating would be. It gets into my eyes and runs up my nose when I'm in downward dog and is generally annoying.

Another frustrating thing about a fat person doing yoga is when I can't do a particular pose. Now, I don't mean can't because I'm not flexible. I have always been flexible. I'm talking when my body gets in it's own way. I'm supposed to lay on my back and pull my knees to my chest. When I've got a big stomach, this isn't possible. 25 minutes later, I'm exhausted but invigorated. If I could just continue to remember how great I feel after a workout, maybe I could convince myself that it's a good idea more often.

Mornings...

Let it be known that I HATE working out in the morning. I have plans to go into Boston this evening, so I decide that means I need to wake up early in order to get in my workout for the day. Yes, I'm amazing and have incredible dedication, but please, settle down.

It's awful from the moment the day starts. My alarm goes off and I instinctively hit snooze before I realize that this defeats the entire purpose of setting an alarm in the first place. So I actually get out of bed. The stupid thing with exercising in the morning is you still have to get ready. And it's pointless to shower before hand so I still have that awful sleep feeling all over myself. What the heck is that from, anyway?

I also have to put my contacts in, because otherwise I will not be able to see the TV and therefore will not be doing the yoga poses properly. And I hate putting my contacts in before I shower. Don't judge me or question my opinion. Deal with it. It's the truth.

So I start the DVD and 40 minutes later, I am now sweating profusely so it's sleep mixed with exertion sweat which makes a death cocktail of body odor. It's a good thing I didn't eat breakfast before I did this. It's also good that I am not in the presence of any other people because if I were, I would probably end up being arrested for homicide. 

I have never been more happy to shower, in my entire life. Okay, that's probably an over-exaggeration, but it's definitely in my top ten. And this morning's work out marks 5 days in a row, of working out! Never in my life have I done that. So suck on that, naysayers and my self doubt! Plus, I have a follow-up to a physical later in the day, and the doctor says he's very pleased with my progress. But I still hate morning workouts.

Foolish...

I’m all pumped to go to the gym today when I realize I have no idea where my gym shorts are. Sabotage! Someone in the world is deliberately trying to thwart my efforts to live a healthier life! That or, like an idiot, I lost them somewhere in the five minutes between my gym and my house. Side note: saying ‘my gym’ is really weird for a fat person.

So I have to drive down to Target and buy some gym shorts which is super inconvenient because I don’t want to spend more money right now. So I drop 40 bucks on two pairs of shorts and a t-shirt. All this t-shirt does for me is turn my midsection into an inner tube and super accentuate my breast and seeing as I’m not a flotation device for a 45-year-old divorcée, neither of these things are particularly helpful. I figure I’ll hold onto it and begin to wear it when it fits me better.

I get home and decide to do some yoga before I go to the gym. I love working out at home. I let it all hang out in the privacy of my home. I make no effort to pretend that I’m not winded and I certainly don’t attempt to be discreet when I have to break wind. I sweat everywhere and I love it. The problem is, it’s much more appealing to watch TV and snack when I’m at home, so that can’t be my only option.

After yoga and a rather amusing conversation with my mother (who just had surgery) I drag myself to the gym. This time I remember to bring a towel because I was SO embarrassed when I was dripping with sweat the night before and had nothing to wipe myself off with. They really should have an orientation class at the gym. This is all the stuff I would never think about.

It’s another night of stationary bike to start. Thank goodness no one approaches me, tonight, because I may have lost it and punched whoever approached me in the face. The 25 minute flies by, mostly thanks to Sean Paul. ‘She Doesn’t Mine’ motivated me like no other song can, so thank you, Sean Paul, for motivating my lazy butt.

I get off the bike and head to the weight room. The ever intimidating weight room. The room that makes me feel foolish. I never know what I’m doing in the weight room and  tonight is no different. Only tonight is worse because there are actually people in the weight room. And I promise they are all judging me. So I do my best to look impressive as I do curls (I think?!) and shoulder shrugs and I’m sure I fail miserably.