Outnumbered Two to One

If HASAY were Jeopardy, I’d be that mousy contestant who doesn’t know any of the answers and whose score occasionally dips in to the negative digits. You know the one I’m talking about - the one who can’t even participate in Final Jeopardy cause she’s got nothing to wager.

It’s sad, I know.

Since joining up with this online group fitness endeavor, it seems my motivation has consistently waned to the point of nonexistence. My occasional spurts of exercise and activity are superseded by my need to compulsively snack or sit at my computer for marathon stretches.

My failure is never more apparent than when I am in the fitting room of any major department store. Maybe it’s the awkward fluorescent lighting or the weird curve of the full length mirror, but I’m never more disheartened by my reflection than when it’s undressed and sadly staring back at me in those dreary close quarters. I think to myself, “Jeezus, I’m walking around in public like that.” My complexion always looks weird, my hair has that I’ve-been-caught-in-a-wind-tunnel look, and the belly I’ve assumed has been retracted in to my rib cage is bulging obscenely over the top of my pants.

Ugh. Double ugh.

What’s a girl to do?

Shop online obviously, but besides that…

My neighbor who recently delivered her baby boy is eager to get herself back in shape. She has enlisted me to be her walking buddy. I’m hoping the obligation will at least get me to commit to a routine that I might otherwise shrug off in favor of less strenuous work - like watching my nails grow. I’m hoping this will be the push I need to keep me consistent.

In the meantime, I’ll make a mental not to stay out of these…because I have enough self esteem issues as it is.

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