Last spring, spurred by the traditional post-wedding weight gain, I bought a couple of Pilates DVDs. You know, I was beginning to think that it was getting close to the time for me to maybe start thinking about working in the direction of possibly getting in shape. Ish.
I'm sure most people know where this is going.
For a week, I was into it. I was already starting to feel more flexible. Then, I decided that it really is a lot more fun to a) sleep in in the mornings and b) flop down in front of the TV after work.
Then, we went to Florence, and lo, there were many pictures taken of my giant neck, and lo, we were surrounded by tiny Italian women and beautiful Italian clothes made for these tiny Italian women, and the girlie, she did decide to actually do this Pilates thing.
I'm actually proud of myself, because with the exception of the holidays, I've been doing this almost every afternoon when I get back from work, for at least 30 minutes. I thought I was kicking a buncha ass.
Today, however, I tried to move up to the intermediate workout on this dvd. (I highly recommend that DVD - in my completely uninformed opinion, it's better than the Ana Caban one I also bought.) Now, I feel like my legs are about to fall off, my abs are going to spring directly off of me, my arms are going to melt, and my lower back is going to start seizing.
I think I'm going to toddle off to the bath. Ow ow ow ow. But also, yay! I did it! And shared it with the Internet!
(Oh, and then, I'm going to edit the pictures we took on Capri when we were on our honeymoon, because I'm going to finish blogging that trip if it freaking KILLS me. Which it won't.)