The day my husband made me work out.

So we've had a goal in our house for like a year awhile now to get in shape and work out.  I got all pumped when I was in Ohio for a few weeks this summer and went tennis shoe shopping with the rents.  My mom and I ran for like 5 nights in a row and then we went to Hilton Head.  My sis-in-law is basically a running all-star {she ran cross country AND track for BYU}.  I got this crazy - literally psychotic - idea in my head that I could run on the beach with her every morning on vacation.  I did it one morning and thought I was going to pass out and then never wake up again.  She was super duper fast and had the stamina of a...um, I don't even know.  Whatever animals have long staminas, that's her.  Anyway, I won't get into the details too much, but basically she would run ahead of me while I "power walked" to get rid of my cramps and then she'd run back and get me, we'd run like 5 steps and then repeat the process.  Slightly embarrassing.  Needless to say, I came back to the condo with a serious case of SWASS {awkward, but true... it was humid, OK!} and with a resolve to probably never try that again.

When we moved into our new apartment, part of the contract allows you to have a pass to 24 on a realllly cheap month-to-month contract.  We bit the bullet and did it in hopes that we'd actually work out.  Jman dragged me to the gym tonight --- and that's not much of an exaggeration.  I did everything I could to hold out.  I even discovered that Netflix finally added the 5th season of Gossip Girls {can I get an AMEN to that???} and watched an episode.  Finally, he got me out the door.  While I was putting my shoes on, I realized something quite embarrassing.  My shoes had sand in them.  SAND.  Hmmm... that means that last time I put those bad boys on was for my SWASS run with Kendy on vacation.  I mean, 4 months isn't that bad, right?  I've done worse.

So guys, we'll see how this goes.  Last time I blogged about working out, I didn't go back to an actual gym for like 2 years, so I don't exactly have the best track record {no pun intended}.  I guess if this man of mine keeps dragging me out the door, I'll eventually go without as much kicking and screaming.