My fool-proof workout routine.

My FITNESS CYCLE:

Maybe my roommate just came back from the gym and said she burned 800 calories on the elliptical. wow.
Maybe I just watched a bit of "the biggest loser" and saw people who are 298 pounds drop to 145. if she can lose 8 pounds in a week, I can lose 5 right?! no problem.

Maybe I'm just sick of eating half-baked cookie dough, and finally made the resolve to get back into shape, before my stomach overtakes my body.

whatever the reason, now my motivation is on fire. I'm pumped. I'm gonna go running--I'm gonna be able to run 7 miles by the end of ___ weeks!  I was an athlete in high school! Remember?! I went to STATE for Varsity Tennis! YOU CAN DO THIS!

I'm going to wake up early, BEFORE i have to be anywhere, and work out like nobody's business. I'm going to stop eating cookie dough(/whatever my vice is at the time). I'm gonna get rid of every little piece of my body that is the slightest bit squishy. Oh ya baby-- NEW RESOLVE> i am going to be a rock-hard, beast of a woman by this time next month.

I'll start tomorrow.

tomorrow morning roles around. my stomach is a little bit unhappy with me (probably because I stuffed myself with junk last night... but, Naturally, I was stocking up for the long road of health before me! duh!) Also, I probably stayed up way too late, planning my new lifestyle, so I really don't want to get out of my warm bed to go running in the cold morning...

I'll have a better work out if i'm more awake. OF COURSE> I'll work out later. SNOOZE

OK. For real. We're going running. At least 3.5 miles! (Probably more!) Bring it on.

 This is how I start out:

I'm feeling great! Looking like an add for running apparel. I'm pumping my legs at a 6-minute-mile pace, just rocking that pavement. I basically look like this----->

Then at around 4 minutes into this incredible run I've started myself out on, I remember a few things: A) yes, I went to state. HOWEVER. I was FOURTH DOUBLES at a 3A school (very small), and we got CRUSHED in the first round at state. like 6-2, 6-0. And I remember, most of my conditioning/matches looked less like Wimbledon, and more like:

I mean, my puppy's so cute, can you blame me?!

B) I'm NOT in very good shape. So this pace... probably going to kill me.

And then I remember the biggest detail:

C) I HATE RUNNING. 

Oh ya. How did I forget that...?

So what was once unbreakable resolve to run at LEAST 3.5 Miles (probably more) turns into me trying to push myself to make it 10 minutes. (Which at my pace turns out to be probably 0.6 miles) and looks something like:

AND 

AND ultimately:

 

I go through this at least once a week. and pretty much always come to this conclusion:


 Why am I doing this to myself? My mommy thinks I look great.


I need some cookie dough. 
and a nap.