Not A Small Competition

ThatManILove and I have been on the same diet for 10 days.  

He has lost 13 lbs in the same time that I’ve lost hardly anything.  We’ve been eating the exact same meals.  

I’m working out. I’m working out every other day, but I just finished 10 days for 10 days of working out daily.

He’s not. He’s not working out AT ALL.

This morning, he said, “Babe.  You’re losing inches, I can see it.”

I just looked at him.

He said: “Okay.  Maybe you’re just gaining brain cells.”

If he dies by my hand, will y’all please hire me the best lawyer ever?

I’m a dang good shot.  The guys around here tease me about being Annie Oakley.

I was so distressed when he gave me his weight report this morning.

You know what the twerp did?

He went and got dressed.  Put on a heavy vest.  Then, his heavy wool coat.

And then he weighed.

He says, just to make me feel better.

It didn’t work.

Maybe I should just sit on him.

Pushup, Smushup

Oh, my Lord.

This morning, at 5 a.m., I went and met my personal trainer and did my evaluation. 

Or should I say, she did my evaluation.

I now know I am WAY out of shape.

I now know I have WAY too much body fat, even though I’ve lost 50 pounds.

I now know I don’t have half the flexibility I used to have.

I now know I can’t do one - 1 -  you know, like “three, two, one? - pronounced “won” - pushup.  One stinking pushup.

I thought a pushup was a bra type, dammit.

I now know I can’t do lunges, or squats, since I hurt my knee prior to the Alaska trip.

Nothing like a little self-realization to make you feel secure and good about yourself.

I might as well not go, right?  Right?  (C’mon, give me some affirmation here.  I only need one little excuse to quit - you know, before I even get really started?)

To her credit, she didn’t laugh at me every time I failed, or even make fun of how out of shape I am.  Thank God.

She did smile and say, “You’ll get better.” Which sounds an awful lot like:  “Bwahahahahahaha...I’m going to get you, my pretty!”

And hot?

Jumpin’ Jehosaphat, it was HOT in there.  At 5 in the morning!  HOT!!!

I’m on the treadmill.  And she’s pushing the incline up, doing my cardio evaluation.  I finally told her, “Hey, it’s hot in here.  I’m menopausal.  I threaten to CUT my husband when I get too hot. Just saying.”

She smiled, and turned on the oscillating fan.    Little does she know, in that one beautiful action, she may have well saved her sweet little life.  

It's never boring around here.