Thought I'd take a different slant and discuss something with you that has me sweating bullets: summertime.
I know I'm not alone in admitting the complete state of panic I am in as the temperatures increase daily and we are outside more than inside. Fewer clothes. More skin. Fewer clothes on more skin. (Very close to reaching for paper bag. Both to breathe into and to wear.) Nothing in my closet fits except the 18 pair of black cotton pants that probably should be burned instead of folded.
The only solution is to suck it up like a big girl and run.
Dieting is out of the question. I rebel like Che Guevara and burn inconsolably at the injustice of it all. Nobody, and I mean nobody, should have to live without pancakes.
So I will not whine, whimper or mope about it one more day.
This is me promising you that I will run. Run fast and away from the stretchy pants and loose-never-was-flattering-even-under-the-sweatjacket shirts. Run toward self confidence and dressing rooms. Run circles around my excuses and reasons for not getting out there to run. Just Do It until I get to at least halfway incapacitating side cramps and shin splints. I will run.
I'll miss you, computer chair. But summer is fast approaching and no amount of typing will make my legs look cute in capris. I'll keep you posted on progress or slackage. Whichever happens first.
Who's with me?