Another week, another good number

Mondays scare the crap out of me. They always have the potential to make or break me.

I lie in bed thinking, “Time to get on the scale. What if I didn’t lose? Oh lord, what if I gained?”

Then I think of every single thing I’ve eaten in the past week, looking for a culprit in a sin not yet committed.

Finally, I trudge my way to the scale, vowing to let the number be a motivator whether I’ve lost, gained or stayed the same.

Luckily, once again, I lost … 4 pounds this time (18 total)!

If you’ll recall, my routine right now is 2 miles on the treadmill every morning before work, kickboxing on Monday nights, and Zumba on Wednesday and Friday nights.

I try to do something active at least one day on the weekend. On Saturday, that was taking my son for a walk at the park and his favorite part: the swings.

Seeing his face, his pure joy … it reminds me why I’m doing this. There’s just way too much life to be enjoyed.

And I don’t wanna miss one second of it.