So it's Day 2 of my nefarious plan to rid my body of unwanted mass so that I can buy new, smaller clothing, and, let me tell you, it sort of sucks.
I've done all this work, like trying to do step aerobics moves (requiring me to count and differentiate right and left--at the same time!) while also simultaneously using hand weights, then attending an uninspiring pilates class that left my midsection trembling like a Jell-o mold, then furiously riding a bicycle that steadfastly refused to go anywhere...
...and I still can't wear most of my pants. So now I'm just tired, achy, chafed, sweaty, and fat, which is two adjectives more than I was at this time on Sunday (tired and sweaty are par for the course around here on summer afternoons), with no benefits. Where is the instant sexiness and energy promised to me by the diet-and-exercise people? Where is the tighter, less jiggly ass? The firm, pert bosom? The sculpted abs? Not to mention the overwhelming feelings of joy and empowerment. I paid my dues. Now how 'bout a little something in return?
What they don't tell you is that sometimes all you get is tired, achy, chafed, sweaty. And, if you're watching what you eat, bitchy from lack of cookies. Try putting that on a poster and using it to sell gym memberships.
On the brighter side, I think I rode harder than the very pregnant woman next to me in cycle class this morning. Go, me!