It's somewhat of a miracle that I even have enough strength to type right now. Having a laptop helps. I just got back from the first of 10 personal training sessions that are going to whip my sorry rump into shape for the next two months. I have a wedding to be in this February and if I'm still committed to bringing pale and s*xy back, then I need to at least get rid of the mush. I'll admit that yesterday I toyed around with the idea of tanning. But I need to hold strong! Out of principle that pale is beautiful enough, I also refuse to get a spray-on tan.
Like last year when I was preparing for our Mexico trip, I'm going on a fast food fast (except a weekly trip to Chick-fil-a) and replacing one meal a day with a Lean Cuisine. There are those times when driving through is the only option, but I can just get a kids meal and that will help. We'll see what happens. Hopefully what will happen is my hubby will see me walk down the aisle in a pretty dress and he'll want to take me on another honeymoon as soon as possible. Hawaii has been calling my name for a while now.
At the end of my punching, kicking, stepping, ab-punishing session, I truly thought I was going to pass out and suffer some major public humiliation. I'm not sure if it's worse to publicly vomit or pass out. Hopefully I will never be able to tell you. I stumbled out to the car, picked up my cell phone with trembling arms, and left a message on the bride's voicemail. I wanted her to know the lengths and the depths I was going to in order to look good in her wedding. I told her that I might pass out while driving home, and if I did so and died, she should know that I loved her. Truly loved her.