There’s nothing like putting on a pair of pants, and before you even look in the mirror you know that you are going to look like a sausage. And you do. That’s what happens when I don’t exercise for what feels like weeks on end.
I really have no problem gaining in <cough> stature and avoidupois when I’m exercising, but when I’m NOT exercising…well, that’s another, more psychologically disturbing phenomenon.
The sad thing is that I have no one to blame it on but myself.
I’M the one who chooses to let the little girls walk, even though they don’t go fast enough for me to get any ‘exercise’.
I’M the one who chooses to spend my mornings “accomplishing” things on the household list.
I’M the one who whines every afternoon because now I’m ready to walk, but the girls are too tired to stay awake in the stroller. And no exercise is preferable to having them take an hour’s nap at 5pm and be up half the night like pillaging monsters.
It would really be nice if I could blame it on somebody else. But I can’t. So I guess I should just get myself together and go for a walk. This morning.