It isn't January 1 by chance, is it?

I promised myself at the end of the year that come January 1 I was going to start exercising again. I went from working out five to six days a week to zero. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Nyet. Nein. Okay, you get the idea.

Well, I dragged myself kicking and screaming to go work out. Yep, all the way into the basement. I had thought about it for hours, and as it was, I didn't make it down there until 6:45. That's PM. As in evening. Nighttime. Late. Again, you get the idea.

But I did it. I did my old standby, my Goddess kettlebell kick-ass-and-take-names video. Okay, not really -- Jillian could take these wenches. But it was still a good workout. Not quite so wimpy a re-entry into exercise that I feel like I cheated, not quite so hard (*cough*Jillian*cough) that I said, "Well, I'll never do THAT again, thankyouverymuch!"

Now I need to stick with it and make my eating-and-exercise program legit. I mean, without the exercise you just have -- well, eating. It's like Laurel without Hardy, George without Gracie, Penn without Teller, Will without Grace, peas without carr-- oops, that's back to eating again. o_O