Sirens wailed in my head as I looked at the enormous figures sprawled across the page. I can't believe I've let myself go this far. I guess the ghastly bumps rising from my thighs and my ever expanding belly should have been a clue, but with unconditional love from my husband and best girlfriend, I’d believed I was amazing and perfect just how I was, but I knew the truth. I used their comments to buffer my internal honesty gauge, adding a few extra points to the "How hot am I" scale and ignoring the subtle changes in the mirror.
In an insane attempt to regain the body from my first year in college, I made the decision a week ago Sunday to begin an intense workout regimen known as P90X. With firmly pursed lips, I read my nutrition and workout guidebooks, took measurements and weighed in. I’ve got to get my body back.
Fat fueling my motivation, I mapped out the grueling journey in the 90 days ahead. I know their will be days when motivation is low and temptation is high, and days when I have energy to spare. Still I cannot shake the curious question; what will tomorrow bring?
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