Can I tell you how much I used to love exercise. I had a whole dresser drawer full of cute exercise outfits, and a bathroom shelf dedicated entirely to towels for the gym. I’d even perfected running and hiking with a water bottle. But now . . . .
I loved working out when I was good at working out. Now that the same dresser drawer went through a metamorphosis – first with maternity clothes, then with lots of yoga pants even though I was not doing yoga – exercise is less fun. I knew life after having a baby was going to be hard and different. I just didn’t think that difference would be in my hips and thighs.
But I’m tired of getting tired at just the thought of exercise. It’s time to get back on the wagon. I’ve not only fallen off the wagon. It’s left me behind crawling through its dust tracks.
So I’m making the public announcement that I’m going to get back into that lovely wardrobe in my closet before the end of the year. That gives me eight months to work on getting it together.
*Oh, and I’ll try to get another book or two finished as well. Why not aim big?*