So. I quit smoking. Couldn’t be happier about the benefits that go along with quitting, like sharper senses, a longer life, extra money. There is one common result, however, that I am less than thrilled with. Gaining weight (makes sad face, says boo).
I am short for my weight, and have been since I had kids. Kinda runs in my family, the women have kids=get fat. But there have been periods of my life where I have been fit and quite a bit smaller. It’s probably just coincidence that those were times when I was more active, probably not related at all, huh?
I know, I know, W-R-O-N-G.
The hardest part for me is the first part, the getting started. A body not in motion tends to stay not in motion, and thats me. One of my favorite things to do is read, or do word puzzles, not the most strenous hobby in the world. I do like to walk, but I get really bored walking the same route all the time, and Linton’s just not that big. Before I complain about our cozy lil city, though, I really ought to go back to my original problem: Getting off my rear.
Now that I have conquered the smoking habit (Huzzah!), I feel like it’s time to address the weight issue. I have no excuses left, dang it!
Maybe somebody needs to dare me, or tell me I can’t, because those things motivate me. Once I get started, and notice results, I am so motivated it’s stupid, but boy oh boy am I lazy until then!
I suppose I should just get up and DO, but my butt says DONT. Any suggestions, Dear Readers?