I Won't Show You My Butt. Don't Even Ask.

So, you know we've been doing P90X around here. It's a cross between torture and fun. Fun, because I love to work out. Torture because it's testing my love. I bought it because I can't run right now. My specialist is sending me to a specialist. Apparently, my foot has decided to put me on running hiatus and I have to accept that; so instead of resting, I sought out the hardest workout ever that is not, indeed running.

Anyway, Collin wants to know why I make a sad sound when I exercise. I think he means why do I grunt? Um, it's because it's crazy hard; like don't eat an hour before you do it, kind of hard. I'll admit, I was unprepared and arrogant that I would be able to handle it with somewhat of ease. I mean, come on; I run! I do sit ups! I do push ups! I squat! Yeah, right.

One quarter of the way through the program, I am happy to report that I have not lost a single pound. Bryon has, of course. Men and their metabolisms. We planned it this way, but it is still irksome. I have begun to manage to not swear at the Ab Ribber DVD that has to be accomplished every other day. (A note here: ABS EVERY OTHER FREAKING DAY!!! WHAT WERE THEY THINKING!!!!) And, I am willing to show the universe my stomach-in-progress. I think that's a testament, don't you?

Alas, I realized this morning as I prepared to do my workout that it might be harder to take a picture of yourself in the bathroom than it is to work out. The flash, making a stupid face, all that jazz. It was quite the challenge. What the hell, I figured that an embarrassing picture of my half-naked self more more than makes up for how stupid it is. Besides, even if my belly isn't the greatest yet, I take this fact into account: that kid in all those other pictures...HE came out of it, and man, he's huge.

Oh and the blurry picture. Sorry, it was virtually impossible to get my arms. Maybe for the next few weeks I'll try to get both Bryon and I. If he'll consent. I'll trick him. "Hey honey, hold this soup can, riiiiiiight here, just like this." Now me. I guess I was just too lazy to set to the timer. Oh well, you get the idea. And tickets to the small gun show. Oh! Had to.

And so as I get ready to post this, running through my head is, is someone going to think: she is being vain. I guess for anyone who actually knows me, I wouldn't have to qualify that. There's vanity and there's taking pride in your accomplishments. But, when you put something that feels like an accomplishment out to the world, you suddenly feel like you have to qualify it by hiding behind, "but I'm not trying to brag," especially if it's about our own bodies in this world of obesity today. Guess what world, Bryon and I are working our butts off over here and it's showing.