|It's hot. We're staying inside today.|
How do I know that? Because I sweated through three shirts yesterday.
Judgmental inner voice aside, It wasn't a bad start to my week. I mean, I have had a few great rides on the Dellner (in front of mirrors), sweated through a few shirts. Oh, and I started that Couch-2-5K program. Turns out there's an app for that... and I am a slave to apps that let me check things off like I've accomplished something. It sounds like it should be easy... just half an hour three days a week. I can do that! As a matter of fact, there's little that I wont do to rid myself of this disgusting jiggly section that's taken up residence in my midriff. Ew, again.
Now, I am the first to say that I am not a runner. And if my first foray into jogging taught me anything, it's that I remain not a runner. However, I mean to stick this thing out for the whole nine weeks. And now that I've told all of you (for all you care), I have a rep to maintain and can't wimp out now.
Or, for added motivation, I can stand in front of one of the myriad mirrors in my house or the stellar mirrors in my arena and jiggle my tummy while saying "wubba, wubba" for motivation to make that go away!
Because I am impulsive (who, me? never!), I think I chose the hottest week of the year to start this 'new me' fitness obsession. Planning has never been my strong suit. And I'm sure that any work out counts double when you sweat as much as I did yesterday... And repaid myself with a chocolate milkshake.
Damn it Alison, that's how you got the wubba-wubba's in the first place.
Touche, itallics voice. Touche.
|My running partner wants a larger pool|