If you really want to be motivated to stay in shape, I recommend marrying a really hot fitness instructor.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Sarah is hot. I’m not biased, that’s just a fact. The sun is warm, ice is cold, Tom Cruise is an idiot, and Sarah is hot. Facts.
I know Sarah would disagree with me, and she’s sweet for doing so, but I know I married way out of my league. Trust me. I’ve seen me without a shirt.
And before you even say anything, let me cut you off. I know looks aren’t everything and if you know me, you know that’s true. I also know that Sarah loves me for who I am, not for what I look like, I know that. So….OK. We’re good? All right. Then I’ll continue with my rant that will seemingly contradict those last couple of statements.
Where was I? Oh yeah, Sarah’s hot.
Sarah’s also a fitness freak. Not that she enjoys working out but this girl loves it. Tae Bo, kickboxing, biking, running, doesn’t matter. She’s up for it.
I on the other hand…well, I’ve been known to work out, sometimes on a pretty regular basis, but I’ve never stayed on top of it. Like most people, I’ve gone through my phases. But I was thinking about this a couple of weeks ago and decided that I’d like to get into shape – and stay in shape – not only because I think it’d be cool, but because if I’m going to be married to someone as good lookin’ as Sarah, well…it’s only polite that I do what I can to return the favor. Not that I am operating under the delusion of becoming something I’m not genetically going to become without an Extreme Makeover, but at the same time I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have abs, even if it’s just two of them. I may even settle for having an ab.
So last week I started on the Body for Life fitness routine. I know, nothing like jumping on the bandwagon 14 years too late. But we’ll see how it goes. I do some sort of exercise six days a week and it’s only been a week and a half, so I’m definitely not touting any major accomplishments yet. But I’ll see what happens. I’m enjoying it so far, even if it does mean I drag my butt out of bed at 6am every morning. And that’s saying something. Especially for me.
And don’t worry. In 11 weeks I’m not going to be posting any before/after photos and I’m not going to be driving around town with no shirt on any time soon. Because if I did, that would mean I could no longer make fun of people who do.