It’s that time of year again. More specifically, Saturday. September. Witness months of mulling over whether I’ll ride my bike, go for a jog, or lift a weight. Every night I say tomorrow morning and every tomorrow morning I say tonight. Ad nauseam. The result? I’m still feeling good and sexy in my body, but I’m sliding downhill faster than a speeding bullet. Okay, the metaphor was mixed and sucky, but so are my feelings these days toward working out, so it works out well. Besides, I secretly love mixed metaphors; like, who doesn’t?
In the kitchen, everything is set up for cooking; everything but one thing. Behind me lies months of scattered workouts; before me lies the promise of, let’s just say, a lot of carbs. Outside, clouds darken the sky. It would be sensible to take the car, but with the planet losing its fight to survive and…
View original post 876 more words
