I hate working out. I just wanted to preface this post with that fact. I don't know if I hate it more because it causes me pain or because I sweat. Ursh. But there is something I hate more. Not being able to fit my clothes, so working out has become the lesser of two evils.
It's a tight race. Some days, my hatred of sweat wins and I go straight to my office. Some days, my really nice New York & Company jeans remind me of how much weight I've gained. If I was running a count, I would say workout hatred is winning and the voter (me) goes to the polls three times a week.
But on a rare occasion, we have a recount. Today was a recount day. I woke up today at 6:45am and instantly made the decision not to work-out today. I began to console myself with reasons, good ones, too, of why I made the right decision. I had woke up earlier than normal and went to bed late last night. It was a dreary, rainy day. So what I hadn't worked out in more than three days. Today was a good day to take it easy.
I got out of bed and got dressed to take the children to the bus stop. Without thinking, I grabbed a pair of my New York & Company jeans and prepared to wiggle into them and to my surprise, they fit better than they did the last time I put them on. And I thought, this working out stuff is working. The jeans won the recount and I popped in the kickboxing tape. I'm celebrating with the jeans today. But Thursday will be a different story.