The Sad Truth

So, here it is...I'm thinking about (clench my teeth) exercising. Pause for gasp. You know how I feel about spandex and sweating. It's ridiculous. Insane. Kinda' like those people who limit their sugar intake. I hate exercising. I mean, really hate. I feel like its a waste of my time when I could be doing other things, like sitting. But alas, I think I am reaching the age where I'm going to have to actually find the key to the treadmill.

This exercising notion started months ago. I tried to shake the thoughts from my head, but that just made my hair messy. See, my brothers have both run marathons within the last year. They are not the 'running' type of people. They are well-built. Squishy around the edges. I've never seen either of them in their spandex outfits. Just the visual makes me hold my stomach for a second. Just kidding. Maybe. If they can run, then maybe I could give it a try.

I've realized lately that at some point I have got to try and be a healthy person. I don't take vitamins because they make my hair grow too fast. Then I have to get it cut more often. I'm only slightly fond of vegetables. It's like eating air. And I bake. A lot. So, if I'm going to be healthy I need to exercise or cut back on my desserts. Again, pause for gasp. We all know the later is simply not an option. I'd rather cut off a couple toes before I ever did that.

I've started looking at my treadmill. It makes me feel healthy already. I think that next week I might even be bold enough to touch it. Maybe in a month or so I will actually move it away from the wall. Baby steps. Who knows, maybe by this time next year I will have stepped on it. No promises. I think I'll start out walking really slow. That way I won't sweat. Tiny. Baby. Steps.