An unfortunately recurring theme here at BDB has been taking better care of my health so that I can be around—and set a good example for—my daughter. This is the progress I’ve made in the past month:
Diddly squat.
To set things right, I’ve spent the last few days laying the foundation for my new fitness regime. I’ve been buying the right groceries, making sure I have the right apps on my iPhone for tracking purposes (my inner geek is always in need of nurturing), and trying to choose from a variety of workout programs. Of these, it is the latter that has proven the most disheartening.
You see, when I think of what I’m embarking on—psyching myself up for it—I imagine something like this:
My last exercise routine—which helped me lose 35 pounds last year before angina set in—was more like:
For the moment though, it seems my exercise program will be more or less like:
The fact is that—yes—it has come to this.
Come Monday, I will go out and walk our Chihuahuas. Goodness knows they can use the exercise too. I’m going to make sure that things don’t come to this:
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