"Hey," I think, "I still fit into my jeans - and, wow, exercise is hard...maybe I'll just cut back on sweets."And so I do and lose a few pounds (I assume, I don't even own a scale) and am satisfied until the guilt sets in again...
I mean, I suppose I could probably have my daily allotment of bacon and beer and follow it up with a dish of ice cream and still look fine but I'm going to be 35. I should exercise.
TD of The Unforgiving Minute and quite a few of my other friends on the Gunblogger Conspiracy have started exercising, and encouraging each other in their efforts. (Well, maybe "encouraging" is the wrong word because so far, it seems like a competition to see who cause themselves the most misery using a method called Crossfit.
"Dude! My legs hurt so bad, I could barely walk!"
"I vomited a whole pot of coffee after my workout!"
Anyway, my point is that I want to start doing something. I have a balance ball, some free weights, and a bicycle. I want triceps that won't flap around 10 years from now, a more defined waist and general all-over toning. But mostly, I'd like to be strong. It's hard to kick ass otherwise.
*small, but soft