I caught a reflection of myself in the mirror every now and then. Sometimes, I would surprise myself by the revelation.
I few weeks ago, I saw the way I walked. I looked like a football linebacker ready to shove somebody aside. I had never known that and promptly walked back to the office to share that with R. He smiled and told me that I haven't exactly been the delicate type. I thought it was actually kind of funny and we've been joking about that for a while now.
Last night, I tried some exercise-wear and looked at my side view. I'm shaped like Lisa Simpson ... just not her hair. A bit squat, belly hanging out ... Yikes!
I know how I got to be the way I am. I just need to exercise more to get in better shape. Why don't I? Is it laziness? I already know that I haven't been motivated to. And I know that I actually feel pretty good every time after I work out. Strange, isn't it?
I was all ready to go ... several times this happened, in fact. I go home, change into my exercise clothes. Instead of heading out the door, I turn on the TV, or grab a bit to eat and find myself settling in for the night and watching infomercial on exercise equipment, at best.
Sad, isn't it?
I ... must ... do ... better
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