The Best-Laid Plans...

Cory and I moved to a new apartment back in late September (so I'm not sure I can really call it "new" any more). It's a nice duplex, and it's actually in a neighborhood, which is nice. Our last place was a tiny one-bedroom in kind of a dumpy complex, out in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, we swore that once we moved to the new place, we would go for walks all the time. ha!

Those of you who don't know me very well need to know that I'm a pretty sedentary person. Aside from running my ass off at work, I don't do much else. No health club membership, no co-ed softball league. I've been lucky enough to stay relativley slim my whole life, but I have no muscle tone, so even when I get a little porky, I'm tall, so I can kind of pull it off. But there are little things that always tell you that you need to lose weight or exercise more... you know... when you can't bend over to pick something off the floor, or you have to unbutton your pants halfway through the day because they're too tight. For me, it happened Monday night, when I was brushing my teeth and I could feel my belly jiggling with every scrub.

So finally, almost five months after moving, I decided it was time to start the new "exercise regimen." I picked Thursday morning to start, since I knew I'd have to work early on Wednesday, and I didn't want to start on Tuesday, then skip a day. That would set a bad precedent, right?

Cory and I set the alarm clock for an hour early, and I got a good night's sleep. I got up, all ready to put on my running shorts, looked out the window, and it was raining. So we went back to bed.

Not the best start.