I took Avah and her five visitors (yes, five!) outside today to run around and go crazy. It is winter in Australia at the moment so we rugged up and got out in the sunshine.
We have 5 acres and our block is quite hilly so it is a good workout walking around. I sat down every now and then on my lovely big fat arse but I also did a bit of running which was fun (like, for reals, I loved it)
Later in the afternoon I dropped all the kids back at Mum and Dad's place and Avah went with them because David and I went to get our Tax done. At the end of the appointment, the accountant, who is quite a big guy, started telling us about all of the takeaway food shops that he loves in the town (it is the town next to ours) and he started making jokes about how much "we" love takeaway food.
Just because I am chubby (ok, fat) does not mean I live on takeaway food.
In fact, I hardly ever eat it. We are in the countryside, about 45 minutes out of Melbourne, so we do not have a McDonalds here or a KFC. We have Chinese and Indian restaurants nearby but we hardly ever have it. Once or twice a year maybe.
I just smiled at him and got the fuck out of there before I punched him in the nuts but he got me thinking: Why am I so chubby (ok, fat) (ok, morbidly obese)? Why??????
It has to be that I am not moving enough. I am not burning anything. My weight is going down slowly because I am eating better but I think if I got my shit together in the fitness department I would really start seeing AMAZING results.
So I need a fitness plan. A frikkin' awesome plan. (And I have to stay away from red wine. Damn you delicious wine, DAMN YOU!!!!)
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