I'm Not Gonna Lie-

Chris had to drag me off of the couch at 2 yesterday afternoon to go exercise. I might have even faked sleeping. And he knows not to wake me while I'm sleeping.

I don't know why. I'm seeing/feeling the results of all of this, yet this weekend, I had no urge to exercise. 

None.

But he made me do it. He told me (and is 100% correct) that if I missed one day of this, I wouldn't get back into it.

So I got off the couch. After I huffed and puffed and begged that we take a nap instead. Anything. I just didn't want to walk/run. Or sweat. And my knee hurt. And the laundry wasn't finished. And the only workout pants I had were too big and I would have to hike them up every five seconds if I ran, SO YOU CAN'T MAKE ME RUN. And my shoes wouldn't stay tied all day! Any excuse I could think of. 

IT DIDN'T WORK.

So we drove to the park and walked. And in my head because you know I won't hold a conversation while trying! to! breathe! I bitched and moaned the whole first mile. I did.

 And then the second mile I just walked/ran really fast and tried to get it over with.

Then the third mile I realized I was almost done and sucked it up because I needed to do this. 

After we were finished, I told him about the whole first mile and how mad I was. He knew, of course. But whatever. It was done. 

He's backing me up 100% in whatever I do. And holding me accountable. 


I love him for that, and 197,549 other reasons.

But those stupid pants were pissing me off. Not even kidding. I think my favorite yoga pants, which I've basically lived in for the last 4 years will have to be retired to the PJ drawer. 

Dangit.

I think I'm still a little ticked that I was dragged off of the couch.


 I should be psyched that PANTS! ARE! TOO! BIG! but it's more irritating for me than anything right now. 




Wahh!