Pigs are surely flying

I am an active person by nature. I like to take walks around the neighborhood. I like to bike ride. I love to garden. Generally, I like to be outside and, as a result, I am active. Up until lately this had been enough to keep gradual weight gain at bay.

Unfortunately, age is catching up with me. It has actually been catching up with me for awhile now, but I have been strong-arming the situation by starving myself. I lost about 12 pounds this way last year, and while it isn't fun it worked. Fast-forward to today. I still live in a state of quasi-starvation in order to maintain the weight loss, except the weight is beginning to creep back. I can't eat any less without running the risk of gnawing off my arm in a hunger-induced moment of weakness. At this point it is only a couple pounds, but I know that a little will become a lot if something isn't done to balance the equation.

Last week I started working out. In reality it was my husband who started working out, and he suggested that I come along. I gave a mental laugh when he offered the invitation. I would have laughed out loud, but I try not to be a complete jerk, at least most of the time. I am one of those folks who run if they are being chased with a knife, but never just for kicks. I will work out when pigs fly. So, I politely declined.

My husband knows better than to suggest that I should do anything. My psyche is hard-wired to do exactly the opposite of what anyone tells me I should do. So instead he says, "Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't want to come. You'd probably end up feeling better when you were done, and you'd definitely be working towards a healthier lifestyle." He turned and left the room after he delivered that little zinger. Darn him. I have been talking about making positive lifestyle changes for some time. The combination of reverse psychology and throwing my own words back at me is irresistible. So I went to the gym without anyone chasing me with a knife.

I am on week two of working out. Woohoo. I don't feel any better. I certainly don't look any better, because I am not working out all that hard. But hopefully I won't get any fatter.

As for all of you, please watch out when you are driving. With small wingspans and dense bodies, I've heard flying pigs have trouble getting altitude.