I did a light workout today, for the first time since last week. Blake's tonsillitis coupled with my massive head cold and pink-eye made the very idea untenable. I actually got as far as the jumping jacks on Monday and thought my head was going to explode, so I quit.
I've been unable to sleep well this week, and I wonder if the lack of exercise is contributing to it. I also wonder at the change in my heart to where I was actually anxious to work out again, because that is SO NOT ME. I prefer the heavy lifting of my eyelids and bringing my hand to my face, conveniently full of cinnamon bears. Maybe the fact that I've lost ten of the twenty pounds I'm working on is motivating me, maybe what Joy-Joy always said is right: once you get past the hurdle, you get a little addicted.
Pretty sure I'm not addicted, but I do enjoy whittling off my muffin top, even if it takes so much LONGER at almost-thirty than it did at almost-twenty (my sophomore year of college saw a summer of working at Baskin-Robbins whipped off within a month of starting a taekwondo class).
Getting a rah-rah phone call from Kerripants worked wonders too. I got her started on the 30-Day Shred based on my enthusiasm for the results I got with only 30 minutes a day, and she called to tell me how wobbly her body was after moving up to the second level. I HEAR YOU, FRIEND! Now, off to shower (because I'm gross) and have another quiet time (because I like the results I've seen from the first one - my patience abounds with that little towhead I hang out with, which is a miracle!).