Seriously dude. There is a reason you can't spell diet without the word die.
Having to decide to eat this verses that, carbs verses proteins, fats verses sugars, BLAH BLAH BLAH!
But you know what sucks more?
Riding your bike and realizing that you are going to die. Sadly, that was me this morning. Six minutes and twenty-seven seconds into the whole ordeal, I was huffing and puffing as if I was on mile 25 of a marathon when I realized how utterly pathetic I am.
I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm lazy (which I am) or that I'm out of shape (which I am) or that I weigh 20 pounds more than I would like to (which I do) that makes it all awful. But regardless of the why, I was dying.
I will also attribute some of the awful to 8 weeks with ZERO exercise, minus regular, slow walking. My back is the culprit on that one. Who knew that taking two months off would result in immediate death by stationary bike?
You know else is awful?
Yummy holiday food.
And the box full of jeans I can't zip and shirts I look fat in is taunting me as I sit here.
So do my children who are screaming like banshees and NOT napping, but that's different.
So, I'm off to do some stair climbing (it's a long walk upstairs) to threaten my children with death if they don't freaking quiet down and go to sleep. Then I think I'll go have a donut.
Crap! I mean an apple. An apple. I'm going to go have an APPLE!!!!!!!