runAugust 13, 2008
Okay, so I’m fat. Well, not really fat, but most of my pants are getting pretty tight and I blame eating out constantly (most of which is fast food). Also, it doesn’t help that most of my favorite activities involve me sitting on my rumpus. I have something of a pot belly, and I’d like to get rid of it, just so I can walk in my closet without wondering what actually still fits.
Yesterday, I decided to go for a run. Being how out of shape I knew I was, I wasn’t expecting fantastic results. In fact, I planned a route that was long enough to be an accomplishment for my fat ass, but short enough I wouldn’t actually die. I stretched, I did the short walk before hand. It was probably an eighth of a mile, maybe less, but by the time I hit that targeted mailbox, I thought I was gonna die. Not only that, but my body continued to think just the same for the next hour or so. I’ve never had a heart attack, but I think I know what it feels like now. Wow.
So, I’m gonna it again today, probably die again. Hopefully, before too long, I can put those slacks on that I look so good in. Here’s hoping.