Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don’t kill their husbands.

UPDATE: I'm a little bit better now. I just came from my Tuesday night nursing home visit, and Mr. W said he might just marry me. Turns out he couldn't because his wife was in the next bed, and she'd give him the boot if he did, but it was a nice thought. Also, on the way home, I heard Zepplin's "Fool in the Rain" and Stealer's Wheel's "Stuck in the middle with you" so I'm in a much better mood....

From Legally Blonde…which, aside from being one of my favorite movies, is on television tonight. Catch it on FOX. That’s not why I quoted it, though.

I would like to dispute that statement. In fact, if I had a husband, I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t bite his head off and threaten his life if he asked some sort of question like “what’s for dinner” or even “how was your day?” My aunt would also agree, as I just had a little meltdown on her over the phone.

I have begun working out, and I am at my wit’s end. I worked out for 13 out of 15 days, and the only reason I didn’t on the two other days is because the gym was closed. I go to the gym every day. And guess what.

My clothes don’t fit. I haven’t lost any weight.




I gotta tell you, that does not motivate me to go back to the gym. It makes me want to quit altogether. It’s been two weeks, every day, and I see absolutely no results. The first week, I didn’t expect to see any results. I wasn’t being unrealistic.

But after two weeks and 13 workouts, I would have liked to see something. A little bit smaller number on the scale. A zipper that’s a little bit easier to zip, or should I say possible to zip.

Yes, muscle weighs more than fat. But guess what…I could have a six pack and perfect biceps, but you can’t SEE it under the large deposits of fat on top of it.

Yes, two weeks and thirteen workouts I can say that I am stronger. But you know what? I don’t care about strength at this point. I don’t care if I am not strong enough to pick up my purse. I want my clothes to fit and to be okay with looking at myself in pictures and the mirror.

I’m going to Lubbock for the 4th, so I’m taking three days off from working out and taking a break from it all. Then we’ll start back up again when I get back, and maybe I won’t be so disgruntled.

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