In about six months I will be turning 40. Okay, five months and three weeks, but you get the idea. That sounds like a good goal date for myself, so I'm declaring on this blog for all the world the one or two of you actually reading this that by the time I turn forty I will have lost the "baby weight" I have been lugging around with me for a little too long now. Okay, The Princess will be eight by then, so I think it's a reasonable goal.
It's not going to be easy, of course. I am now officially obese, though just barely. Two weeks ago when I weighed in at the doctor's office, I discovered that I weight 172 pounds. At five feet, two inches, I should actually weight around 130. I have my work cut out for me!
I joined a gym (with an indoor pool!) that I have been trying to get to every day. I like the different classes, I LOVE the pool, even if I just walk laps while holding pool weights or float on my back swimming elementary back stroke back and forth, and I feel good after going. I have to make it a priority. Obviously I have to wait until the pneumonia completely leaves my lungs, but as soon as that happens, I know what I have to do.
After all, I really want to be able to tell everyone the following and truly mean it: