See that little alarm clock up at the top right? It goes off at 4:45 a.m. every morning. So far, I have never needed it as I am up before then anyway but it lets me know I have entered the time of day when it is ALL. ABOUT. ME. If I am flying solo, I haul my butt down the basement and torture the treadmill. Boooooring. I hate it. Sure, I have my music but I also have the couch right next to me. A couch that calls to me. "Come here! You know you wanna! No one will know!" So far, I have done my best to ignore it but I find myself wanting to quit much sooner on the treadmill than when I am outside. But, then again, I am running on the treadmill. I have decided to spare the sidewalks from that pounding for now.
I have 3 mornings a week, and I try to convince my older girls to cover me (everyone's asleep anyway) on one day during the weekend, when the world is mine, all mine. I set out right before 5 and hit the concrete with my 90 pound sidekick, Sofi. We are gone for about an hour and a half. I LOVE it. It is good for me, too, because, no matter how far I go, I always have to make my way back. The gutter just isn't as inviting as the couch in the basement.
I have been doing this for 8.5 weeks. Can you say, "See ya, 26 pounds!!"?
