What ultimately happened, as should be no surprise, is that I took that gleaming notion seriously for oh, about a week before losing it behind a figurative couch one day while idly flipping it around trying to look like a drummer weaving his sticks between his fingers during a particularly flashy solo.
By that time, my poor notion had been deep-fried, coated in chocolate, distilled into a potable refreshment, then the dry leftover husk was BURIED in the lint-filled cushions of the figurative couch of my lack of motivation and a General Desire to Enjoy Life.
Thus? I have lost only 2 pounds since the beginning of the year. I think we can all agree that this amounts to a big pile of steaming NOTHING, really, because that is about, oh, 1 percent of my weight and in all likelihood a reasonably good poop would be the equal of my total loss thus far (ending the whole 'steaming pile' metaphor on a high note, might I point out.).
This barely-there weight loss is not good news. Fortunately (here's the silver lining!) there are other piggies who are struggling over the Hump Of Despair with me, and so a new challenge has been thrown out there to all of us who aspire to shrinkly their pigly a bit more swiftly. To wit: we must all do three things toward our goal this week, and BLOG about them.
Blogging? I can do THAT! Woohoo! Therefore, I will use this here page to declare to all and sundry what my three things are, because dude, if I don't I'm going to be forced to TELL you how I know the weight of a good poop, and I'm betting that's a dark place you'd prefer to never go, even with a best friend and a flashlight.
Therefore, my three things are as follows:
1) Drink at least 2 liters of water a day (that's 'litres' for all y'all what as speak the Queen's Engrish)
2) Get up and walk at least 200 steps every hour. Do not laugh. DO NOT. Those measly 200 steps an hour will be approximately 8 times more than I walk now, especially at work, where I can plant my ass in my oversized rolly chair and not get up for hours. (See #1 for a reason I might be getting up more often...it all makes sense, doesn't it?)
The last thing is a thing that doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense, but if I don't exercise my right to be completely off my rocker about certain things, then it's going to be quite the shock when I start acting bizarre once I reach the Old Folks' Home, so here goes:
3) I'm going to start the 100 Push-up Challenge. Hey, I KNOW it's insane, but have you SEEN what menopause does to a woman's upper arms? HAVE YOU? If you have not, you do not want to. If you have, you KNOW what I mean. Flabby doesn't begin to describe it. Batwing is apt. Totally 'ew' is yet another perfectly acceptable adjective, and while I'm not terrifically vain, I would like to stave off looking like someone's Gramma for a few more years. It should be noted that I've never ever had great upper arms - they've always been big, in large part because there had been a substantial amount of muscle under the skin, but now? Not so much with the muscle, I'm sure, and oh so MUCH more with the flubbity swingy smooshity ick. Bleah. Double bleah, one for each arm.
That's it then. Three things I can do without spending a dime. Drink, walk, pushup. Lather, rinse repeat. Crying and bitching are optional.
Now if you'll excuse me, the first half-liter is looking for away out. Have a lovely day.