TEN-HUT!

My attention to my physical health is cyclical. From June-November, I am motivated. I usually go running, head to the gym, eat right, and drink a ton of water. Then Thanksgiving rolls around and the tryptophan leads me stomach first into Christmas. Then throughout Christmas, I feel less and less guilty about rifling down a pound of chocolates followed by a few tumblers of scotch. I eat Doritos without any regard for the 72 grams of fat I am consuming. Then, as the weather starts getting nice again, I begin to realize that my skin is hanging further and further over my belt when I sit down. Walking Zuzu becomes a chore. Taking out the trash turns into cardio. And before you know it, I'm out of shape again. Admittedly it's pretty tough to get motivated when you work pretty crazy hours in a sunless basement. So, I have decided to give myself a masochistic kick in the butt and signed up for one of those "boot camps" like you see on TV. So, for the next 5 weeks, I will be getting yelled at from 6-7:30 am Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and partaking in some rigorous Private Benjamin-esque activity (cue Al making some wisecrack about how Private Benjamin is more masculine than I am...so predictable). Anyway, I'll keep you posted on my progress...over and out!