Guess what I did last night? I went for a RUN. A RUN! In high school, I could have told you this every single day of my existence. I swam, I danced, I volleyball-ed, I ran. I ran a LOT. But guess what happened when I left high school?
I went to college. I discovered booze. I LIKED booze, and I continue to like booze to this day. But guess what else? I turned 26 this year, and I started dating a guy that lives a stressful lifestyle and eats a lot of fast food. Of COURSE I like fast food – it’s quick, easy, and full of all of the shit your body will never need. Delicious!
So, I gained about 28 pounds. I feel pretty effing awesome about it, ya know?
No I don’t. That’s a lie. I feel great when I’m laying underneath the depths of my sheets and comforter, but once I get up and look in the mirror … a 180 degree change in opinion occurs.
So I’m laying in bed, watching more Lifetime forbidden love movies, and I decide “this sucks. I’m sad, I’m frustrated, and discouraged in a lot of aspects of my life (is that depression? Nah… and I’ll hit on more of that later)” So I make the conscious decision to get my jiggly ass out of bed and do something that I clearly used to love: I ran.
Ok, I walked … but briskly … and I even threw in a couple sprint-like dashes amid the brisk walking. I burned 241 calories, went 1.7 miles, and it took me under 30 minutes (thank God for my iPhone and all of its technologically-awesome glory).
Yes-suh! That rocked! And I ate spinach, cottage cheese, and deli turkey for dinner! What. A. Day. Although it ended with a handful of popcorn and a Lefthand Milk Stout, I still feel pretty damn good about it. AND I’m super excited to do the same thing tonight! …after I go get my local pizza lovin’ time on with my two business partners, of course. 🙂