Today was as the title indicates, GYM DAY 6!
After a brief week long hiatus, I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn, walked to the torture chamber called the Zone and spent an exhausting 30 minutes interval training.
Oh boy!
15 minutes in, what little muscle I had was screaming ‘mercy’, sweat was oozing out of miscellaneous places, and I was promising whichever God was listening that I would never eat another KFC meal again! If they could just take the kilos off without necessitating 3 sets of 15 reps on the abductor machine/Chinese torture implement, I’d call a truce with my junk food addiction.
My pleas must have fallen on deaf ears.
But there was something incredible about rock bottom. Besides being only half way between living and giving up – scary enough alone - it forced me to choose.
I found myself standing on the precipice of a very gaping, very deep and dark void. I could either jump, and then there would be no point, or I could let the last fragment of hope help me build a bridge to a better place.
When that timer hit 25 minutes, my bridge had one brick.
When I climbed on the scale and saw I was one digit down, my bridge got it’s second brick.
When I walked into the office and felt really good about myself for the first time in a long time…let me tell you, that bridge was halfway built!
This is something I think I’m going to 'keep on keeping on' at – if that makes any sense.
Between the weight and me…rest assured,
I’m not what’s going down!
Your'e supposed to show what you look like when you do these weightloss blogs, so you can 'encourage' your readers...aka show off your hot new bod. So here goes:
