A few days ago, one of my dear Charlotte friends casually mentioned that her pectoral muscles hurt from weight lifting. The only weight I have lifted as of late is my bat wing arms while reaching for my iPhone. The only sore muscles I have are around my thumbs from texting and scrolling.
Yowza, did her comment ever shine bright white lightning on my thunderous thighs. I am the perfect storm of middle aged spread and jiggle. As my husband likes to quote, “That must be jelly, cause jam don’t shake like that!” So, this jellya$$ (I think I just coined a new term) is kicking it up a notch. You know that gym membership we all pay for and look at guiltily when the money is debited every month? Well, I’m going to actually go. In about 10 minutes. No, for real. I’m gonna “Just do it!” (Thanks, Nike, goddess of the fleet footed!) And since public accountability is what holds my feet to the fire and treadmill (and I just bought some Nike shorts that will expose all of that aforementioned jiggle), I hereby pledge to run/walk/crawl/gasp the Charlotte Turkey Trot. WHO’S IN? Join me on race day (in Charlotte or your own hometown) and help me earn some stuffing and a piece or three of pie. #40down25togo #imsohungry #couchto5Kredux