I don't like tennis shoes. I don't like sweating. I don't like working out. To do all this, I have to change my clothes, except for my underpants, then do stuff like lift weights and get on the 'dreadmill.' Don't like sports, never did 'em. Bleeech. I've tried walking, running, aerobics (I have rememberies of perky bouncy Bambi the instructor saying, "That's it, you can do it, just 5, and 4, and 3, and smile, now 2, give me another 5, and 4, and breathe, and 3, and 2, and 1"...groan), gyms, personal training, and once I even played racquetball.
But, my favorite son Charles is getting married in the fall and I don't want to wear a dress shaped like a muu-muu to the wedding. Such a sight it would be, preserved forever on film for all to see and report: Huge Mama in Nasty Muu-Muu at Wedding Celebration. I don't like that either.
Thus, due to my expanded butt and flapping upper arms, I rejoined Weight Watchers (you know, because I'm a 'lifetime member' that didn't stay within the 2 pound target weight) and have started to workout....again. I'm counting points and measuring food trying to plan what I eat...bleech. What happened to being spontaneous? I haven't worked myself up to sweating yet and I'm afraid that will be on the horizon...oh ick, dark circles under my armpits or an giant dark V on my chest. That will mean I'll smell and need to take a shower which cuts into my reading time. It's a problem!!
However, I am saying to myself, "This is good for me, this is good for me." But give me a cozy couch, a good book or nine (this is my type of sport!), perhaps next to a warm fire with my doggie Gracie June and I'm a happy girl. Without snacks, but I'll be happy.