The horrible truth is exercise just makes me feel better. I know this *is* true, but I keep mentioning it because I have this hope that someday it’ll actually sink in. I got up early-ish this morning and went for a walk because they said the weather would get increasingly worse as the day wore on (and indeed, it is at this very moment pissing out there) and I wanted to get my licks in while I could. And then I came home and did my Pilates. I’m getting better at the beginners level, although the leg lift things still kick my ass. I hate those. On the up side, though, on three or four of the exercises I can do the intermediate version of them. Just, y’know. Not on the leg lifts. Ow. And I finished with my weight-lifting regime, the last of which Lucy helped me with.
(It is impossible to do anything but stop the bicep curls and pick up the cat when she stands up against your leg and stretches her front paws up as hiiiiiigh as they will go and looks at you with teh big kitteh eyes. After a good solid minute of grooming my hair and being held (which is quite a while for Lucy; she prefers being petted and skritched when she’s on the floor to being picked up), she decided I could continue, and crawled down my back to the couch. D’awww.)
Anyway, my workout has left me feeling quite perky. That’s good, because I didn’t actually finish typing the AAs in yesterday, so I have to do it now, and a perky attitude is helpful for that sort of thing. Also, I am wearing the perfectly gorgeous royal purple sweater that my mom made for me, so that makes me happy too. :)
Oh, I posted this last night and said I’d make a pointer to it today, so if you were interested in the possibility of a weekly weight loss chat room, there’s a poll here to try to determine when might work out best for the largest number of people.
Off to see the wizard!
miles to Minas Tirith: 88.6