To begin..English? Punctuation? Never my strong points. I feel I write , how I speak. So just overlook the occasional grammatical errors.

I am 46 years OLD. Some days it just feels good to admit that. After I quit my boring-please help me-never ending cycle of doom-cubicle full time- job, I decided to make some self improvements. I really knew I could stand to drop some LBS..so I began to work out. At least that is what I called it. According to some of my face book friends, and what I see in the News Feed over there, it was hardly “working out.” but I was moving. I did some kick boxing, with folks that I am telling you, are entirely too perky, and happy, and are trying to kill anyone who watches those DVD’s. Seriously. Resident Evil. Had a few dates with Jillian Michaels. She is Satan. Do not tell me she isn’t. the weather sorta broke here in Ohio. Again, that is up for debate, but it was over 30 degrees, so as far as this Ohioan is concerned, that’s breaking weather, so I started walking. Outside. Little by little I started walking further. Before too long, I was walking 5 miles a day..not all 7 in the week, but at least 5 out of those 7. Added a few hills here and there..and left 25 pounds somewhere between my house and the local dairy Queen, which opened for the season, only to make me a little more bitter as I walk by.

I like the feeling, of walking…but I am not perky little, pony tail wearin’, happy go lucky, Ipod with a Velcro holder, young thing, that pass me every morning, RUNNING. I am not running anywhere. I do not have a fancy little Ipod holder. One day, I actually thought I could fashion my music with a rubber band around my wrist, because I do not have all the little work out gear I see all about town. Some days I am kicking my own behind out the door, because..I mean, can I just sit here please? But no, 25 lb ago girl, says get the H outside.

People see me around town, and feel the need to comment. Things like, “oh, I see you STROLLING around town. How nice.”

These are the people I have dreams about pushing into traffic. I am NOT strolling, and it is NOT NICE. These 46 year old legs kinda hurt..I just had to cuss my way out the door, I am sweating, and briskly climbing up this small hill. Join my you CAR DRIVER..k?

Then there are the people who speak of “clean eating.” What is this? My food that I eat is clean. The glass that I place some wine in, is clean anyway. I am going to eat for crying out loud. Most likely really bad stuff. I applaud all those before and after pics I see of gorgeous young ladies, that threw out the, sugar? Flour? And look FAB..but I am 46, and I really like, cake. I am going to well…have my cake, and eat it too, and walk. Move. Strap my music to my arm with a string or something, and walk.

I am proud of what I have done here. I remember walking by this hill in town everyday, one day, I decided to turn, and walk up that hill. When I got to the top, I turned around, and smiled. The kind of smile that I felt from somewhere very deep inside of me. I did it. All alone. All by myself. No one was there..just me and my 25 lbs ago self. It was fantastic. Later that evening I had a glass, a clean glass of wine, to celebrate that.

It isn’t 100 lbs. It isn’t fancy. It’s 46. And it is not too shabby. Not too shabby at all.

PEACE!!