Days 328-337 (let's talk turkey)

Last Monday, I embarked on a fitness challenge with coworker Gage (CG). And, knowing that possible humiliation in the workplace and probable humiliation online loomed before me should I not complete my latest weight-loss goal (17 fatties by Christmas, click here for backstory), we opted to up the ante with a financial twist.

So, here’s the deal. CG and I have to hit the gym at lunch four days a week (we get a one-day reprieve). And, if because of laziness/slothness/whateverness either of us skips more than one workout per week (sick babies are an exception) we have to pony up 5 bucks for each missed sweat session. (Um, yeah mama's buying a house in exactly 13 days … mama ain’t got no cash … and therein lies the 1-2 punch. ;) )

Anywhoo, smart as I am, I thought starting this new regime the week of Thanksgiving would be a fantastic idea. I’m a genius, I tell, total genius!

We worked out on Monday (a little sore, but nothing to complain to Mom about). Skipped Tuesday (we had a company lunch thing). And went back on Wednesday (worked the wings … YOWZA!!!).

I was shocked and amazed when, at 9:30 Turkey Day morning, I found all of my wobbly bits wobbling all over the dreadmill while watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (I could so relate to those poor blimps wafting down the street). Yay me!

But, my fitness fire was quickly extinguished as I a gluttonously ate my way through the remainder of the holiday weekend, coming up for air only briefly between bites.

But, like any good chunky monkey with a great financial burden to bare, I climbed back up on that eliptiKILL today (Coop was sick yesterday), worked the legs on weights (targeting my Suzanne Somers … youch!) and am now exhausted and sore.

YES!

Just 23 days left to achieve my goal.