Some of you might not believe it by looking at me, but I’ve been undergoing a strenuous exercise regimen for the last… oh, month or so.
The results? Incredible. No, seriously, I’m incredulous every time I step on the scale, having sweated more than I wanted to sweat during a few days of workouts, and see that I haven’t lost a pound.
Every time I step on the scale, it rewards me with the same number I saw last time. Incredible.
It’s just the motivation I need to keep plugging on. Sometimes I reward myself with an extra glass of water to celebrate.
I might have noticed improvements in muscle tone if I wasn’t preoccupied by sore hamstrings, which protest about halfway up the three flights of stairs on the way to my third-floor classrooms every weekday.
I have a secret Pinterest board of fitness motivation. It’s awesome. It makes me want to persevere even though nothing has changed.
The amazing thing about this new venture? It’s incredibly humbling. The whole In shape? Psssh, I can hike fifteen miles without even beginning to feel it the next day brag doesn’t stand up so well when I’m dying at the digital hands of a Jillian Michaels workout video.
So, humility. And a number on a scale that doesn’t change, accompanied by a new-found respect for all the things I’m learning my body will not do…
Oh, yeah. I feel empowered.