... and this will be my boyfriend. 'Stash and all.
This will be me after finishing the fitness plan...
Attention wanna-be journalists: Reporting can make you fat.
That’s what it has done to me. Well, I’m not exactly fat, but I’m tubby. Okay, maybe not tubby, but I really don’t like to feel my belly jiggle while I’m stomping around crime scenes.
I’m going on a diet. Yes, I realize this is November. I’m painfully aware that Thanksgiving dinner is in two weeks, two days, eight hours and five minutes.
Don’t even remind me about Christmas and all that fantastic food — I stood in front of Wal-Mart’s six-foot shelf of Christmas tree cakes the other day and pouted until Charlie dragged me out of the store. (We were there for ice cream, not carbo-loaded artificial sugar treats, thank you very much.)
I will not state my weight here, not because I’m embarassed, but because it would probably give my mother a heart attack. (Love you, mom!) Being a good mommy, she worries about my weight. She doesn’t want me to let it get out of control, like I’ve done before. No worries, I got it this time. I think.
Official diet begins tomorrow. Workout plan begins as soon as some DVDs that Charlie bought arrive via UPS. He’s embarking on the P90X workout plan and he’s talked me into participating. We’ll see how that goes. It looks like the DVD set will live with me, and he’ll come over at about 10 a.m. every day and do the workout with me. I would like to think that I would keep up the workout regardless, but I have a feeling if Charlie doesn’t come over every day, those DVDs will just be coasters for my ice cream cartons.
(Thanks to Beach Body Success Stories for the photos. You’re looking at Traci M. and Tony B.)
You misspelled “aggressive” in your sidebar.
Angry Journalist made me so happy!
My current diet consists of “cook at home, stop eating Papa John’s and McDonald’s, and stop drinking coke every day.” We’ll see how that goes. So far, I’ve been pretty good! Good luck with yours. Mom joined Weight Watchers and now all she talks about is something called “flex points.” Don’t do that. They sound scary. I don’t want my food to get points.