For the first time in a month I’ve felt like myself.
I’ve been calling myself out on my shit.
Papa is a complaining jerk who doesn’t see fit to get off her ass and GET fit. Since I’ve moved home from Vancouver I’ve gained 20 pounds. Which is apparently just my M.O. because whenever I move home I gain 20 pounds. It’s super weird.
I was a wanker last week, let’s be real here. I was just starting out exercising again and that’s always really hard and I’m hard on myself and I cry and I barf in my mouth and then I pull myself together.
Yesterday was the first day that I was like ‘There I am’ while exercising. Not because I immediately lost those pesky 20 pounds, but because I felt stronger. I was motivated and not being a self-pitying twat waffle while crying. Although I did actually barf in my mouth a little bit but that was because I had a mimosa and then worked out.
What a dummy.
SO here I am about to do my 5th work out in a week and I’m proud of myself and I’m not giving up on myself (never do completely) and I’m so excited because I’m three work outs away from seeing some sort of change. (This is what happened the last time.) And even if I don’t see a change at least I know I’m on the right road for it. I’m working and trying and that’s more important than the fact that I’ve already lost three pounds.
Even if I keep crying, barfing, and being in super pain from working out (hello PMS boob pain) I’m still going to battle on because hell, I’ve made it through three work outs in a row, I don’t want to break my stride.