I've reached a weight plateau: all the weight that baby-popping and breastfeeding alone was going to take off is taken off, I think, and now it's time to either give up nachos/cake/beer, or start ramping up the workouts. I don't believe in giving up things unless it's strictly required for health reasons, so exercise it is. The way our schedules are these days, the only realistic solution is early morning walks together, so we plan to start those tomorrow. We won't take them every day, because hanging out in bed with the baby is one of the best things ever. A few days a week is a good start. Someday I'll get back to my desired level of fitness, but it's pointless to be in a rush. Who cares about a couple of pounds when I've got a sweet baby boy already growing so fast? It's not like I make my living by being a model. So tomorrow we haul ourselves out of bed and walk. It's on. I'll let you know how it goes.
Work beckons, so instead of the long angry screed I had planned on the subject of my sucky evening commute, I'll wrap up this pep talk to myself and call it an entry.
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