I arrived at the gym at the crack of 11:30am on Sunday, ready to get back into shape.
Previously, I described my body as a pear with rhombus touches. Right now, I feel like a square rhombus, which is a fatter, squatter, diamond shape. I am going for the diamond shape rhombus — I am not getting any taller but I can shrink the girth. Less girth, more mirth. Somehow that isn’t slogan-y enough. Let me try that again in sing-song perky voice — More Mirth!! Less Girth!!! Naw.
How about: It is time to put the T-O-N-E in my muscles. (Except there is no “t”, “o” or “n” in “muscle”.) Don’t I sound like an infomercial? [imagine someone with perky, sing-song voice singing “All right, okay, waste that waist away!!” while doing something 1980s like jazzercise.] (Didn’t some trainer of C-list celebrities say something like that?)
I still looked dweeby in my gym outfit because, while the length of my work-out pants covered my unshaven legs, they were toooooo form fitting. (Here’s the sad truth — these once weren’t form fitting work-out pants.) And my work-out shirt, which thank G-d was not sleeveless, wasn’t long enough.
I did both cardio and weights. I hurt today. That is an understatement. My body is SCREAMING at me. Yet, I will go at it again, today, or, errrrrr, tomorrow. But DEFINITELY, today or tomorrow. Or Wednesday. But I am committed, clearly.