Exorcise

The time has come, my friends. There is no escape. You know what i'm talking about.

It's time to get back into my pre-pregnancy body. I can't procrastinate any more.

Actually, i've started about three weeks ago. Signed myself up to a course at Studio C, in hope to get a better body without sweating too much. So far, everything has been going quite well. I think that in a few months i'll actually be able to put my foot on the bar, like the rest of the women in class. I like the way the class is going: everything is relaxed. Nothing is done in a hurry, and you can really feel the work on all the muscles. At this rate, i might actually look quite good for A. and M.'s wedding in August.
Thing is, the instructor incouraged us to try the Aerobics class they give there. I went this morning. Boy, was THAT a mistake! I mean - WTF with killing yourself in nightclub music, nightclub volume, and an instructor who is like the energizer bunny on speed? I stopped after some agonizing 25 minutes of nonstop junping/bouncing/doing intricate things with your legs and arms. I think I damaged my knees. And worse of all, I had to eat a stack of mediocre pancakes with terrible can whipped-cream to make up for the suffering.

He was right, my friend Mo, when he said "Fat is Beautiful". Also was right Garfield the cat, in his notorious reply to John's idea that he should get in shape, "Round is a shape".

Anyway, wish me luck. I really have nothing decent left to wear anymore.