So it's been a while since I've posted anything about my fitness goals. Honestly, I bottomed out and kind of did what I wanted for a while. While that was fun, it has certainly left me with a less than desirable physique (at least for me).
Last week my friend introduced me to this cute guy. I knew it was coming, knew this guy would be at the event I was attending, and yet I totally had a panic attack while getting ready; my backside has officially earned its own zip code and would barely fit in any fitted dress I own. If only I had a nun's habit that I could have worn... things would have fit a bit better.
I'm not sure if it was the realization that buying an entirely new wardrobe is less cost effective than my gym membership, the moment I asked my friend if this totally cute guy liked curvy girls, learning that he works out regularly, or the fact that as he and I discussed the gym, I felt like such a hypocrite for even discussing how I "use to look" (we all do that); but something made me feel as though I'd been slacking way too long.
So this morning, I sucked it up and took my fat deriere to the gym. I can't promise that I'm going to look amazing. I can't even promise that it's going to feel amazing. I'm currently sitting here in bed with my shoulders, biceps and triceps growing increasingly sore with every passing hour. My hair will likely look like a 2 year old did it tomorrow, and my legs are cramping up in fear at the thought of tomorrow's squats.
Basically, I'm old. I'm a working single mom. I love to eat and spend time with friends who don't really workout. But I'm picking up all these excuses and going with the what ifs.
-AJT, scared but moving
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