Doing this for real…

Showering has always been a non-visaul activity for me. I made a pact with myself when I'd started pushing out the pups that I would keep off my own back about how my body had changed. That was all well and good, but twelve years, three kids and 15 extra pounds later, I accidentally made the mistake of catching a glimpse of my corpulent self in the bathroom mirror.

Gah.

Where had my body gone? My beautiful body with it's toned, golden flesh? And who'd replaced it with this sagging lump of congealed pudding?

I began dieting. It worked reasonably well; I was mostly miserable, but I kept telling myself that it was the only way to losing the weight I'd packed on. Shedding a few pounds wasn't a problem... however, I quickly noticed that the reason I didn't like my naked self (which I'd now taken the time grossly overexamine and criticize) was mainly due to large, flabby areas doctors called, "muscles."

Apparently, you need to "exercise" to raise your "metabolism" (which increases weight loss) but also to "gain musculature." And muscles are, when well-groomed, apparently really pretty.

So I've decided to start exercising. For whatever reason, these badasses on mountain bikes intrigue me. I want to be out there, in nature, riding around.

I'm doing it. I'm getting a bike. I'm going to lose weight. I'm going to be a badass. A muscular badass at that.