Every day after work, I climb on the treadmill. For the past two weeks, I go at least two miles a night, sweating my hair out while my achy knees screech back and forth. With the exception of tonight, it’s now a part of my daily regimen. See,
what had happened was, I couldn’t fit my pants anymore. Well I could but what I mean is I couldn’t fit them without it looking like they were stretch skinny jeans. HORRI-FUL. And, oh yea. When I went to the mall and tried on my favorite brand pants, those jokers were squeezing my belly to the point my side was hurting. And that was one size up from what I normally wear. So…….
I had a come to Jesus meeting. You know the one where he tells you he won’t put more on you than you can bear? So I said, well Lord, I get home so late and once I eat I have to wait 30 minutes and then walk Paisley and go through the bills and at least watch something on tv, right? Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.
My weight is something I can control but only when I do something about it. I’m not overweight by any means, but I’m uncomfortable with my size. And plus, I need a way to relieve stress after having meetings at work about having meetings and not settling anything and having to schedule another meeting. So I got up. And walked to the gym. And it was hard. But I did it. I started with one mile, then said let’s try for a mile and 1/2 the next time. I turned up my ears with Tyga, Diddy, Katy Perry, Beyonce’, and kept pushing. My goal was to get up, and then start to think about doing more.
And for the women that sweat in their hair, it’s okay. I struggled with it too until I realized, I have to take care of myself. My hair done is just one way for me to feel good about me. And if I’m walking around with a cute do’, but unintentionally giving the impression I intended to wear stretch pants to work, we got a problem. And we all know women who look fabulously made up then start taking a box of pills because they “all of a sudden” have high blood pressure. They are too cute and the hair is always laid, but no one cares about your hair if you can’t breathe and then have to take “walk breaks” cuz you losin’ your breath when you go to the outlet mall with your girls.
All I’m saying is do something. Walk. Zumba. Run a block and take your time walking back even if you are wheezing. But start somewhere. We only have one life so why not live it like we care about it? Put down that pork chop. Or save it for afterwards if you have to. But get up. And do something. You really are worth it. :)
And oh yea, I’m proud to announce I’m now down two sizes in my favorite pants. Hollaaaaaaaaaaa!