My family (brothers, sisters, in-lawers, my dad, and a friend or two) are doing a competition, of sorts, to lose weight. We all put 15 dollars into the pot, and the person with the most percentage of weight loss at the end of the eight weeks, will get the prize.
I took my "before" pictures. I weighed myself. I said goodbye to my excess everything, and turned a new leaf. Now, I'm a week into it. So far, I've changed my eating habits entirely. It feels great. However, I have pretty much failed at working out. For reasons I won't go into (you don't need to hear my paltry excuses anyway) I just haven't worked out...for.a.long.time. A LONG time. That LONG time results in me looking the way I look. It's time to get back into a smaller size. A much.smaller.size.
So, this brings me to this morning.
This morning I wasn't even thinking of doing a workout. Actually, I was doing everything I could NOT to think about doing a workout.
Anyway, Kimble had a blowout. A super bad one. My sister Courtney took a picture a few weeks back, of a blowout that her newborn baby girl had. It was everywhere! Well, Corks, Kimble's blowout would make Jordyn's blowout seem tiny in comparison. Stay with me. This has a connection to working out. So, the blowout was all over me, Kimble, and his blankets that were between us. So, as I was cleaning him up, I had to change what I was wearing (as well as the sheets and blankets and clothing that he had) and as I was searching for some more pajamas to cram my monstrous thighs into and snuggle back under the covers in my bed, I came across my old workout pants. "Old" as in had.for.a.long.time.but.hardly.used "old". There were no jammy pants to be found. So, I put on the stupid workout pants. Then, guilt overcame me. Since I had them on already, I figured I needed to do some exercising.
So, Kimble's blowout resulted in a clothing change, which resulted in inadvertently putting on workout clothes, which resulted in me going downstairs and doing the elliptical while smelling my favorite laundry soap (Gain) and listening to the washing machine clean all the blowout items. I even put on shoes. Although I think the shoes are super cute, I hate wearing shoes. I seriously have the most claustrophobic feet.
Today, I rocked the workout. Let's hope I have my own motivation in the future, and don't have to rely on a blowout to get me exercising.