I’m not sure if there’s even such a thing or if it’s just me but I felt the need to classify the pounds that have recently taken up residence on my belly and bottom. Yes, there were signs of a slow but sinister weight gain before I departed the shores of New Zealand but somewhere between bumming around The Cook Islands and over indulging on every scrumptious Canadian treat, I lost the battle. Despite how much I would like to blame Timmy’s for luring me in with tempting Timbits, this was 100% my own doing. I made the brilliant move of dropping the gym as though it was on fire in favour of eating out like it was a religion and if that’s not a recipe for disaster then I don’t know what is.
I finally came to the realization that unless something changed soon, I would have to start leading the life of a wannabe Irish thug just to explain parading around in track suits with their fabulous elastic waistbands. As that horrible image settled in my mind, I made a major decision. I refuse to let the Traveller’s 15 weigh me down and win the war. What I vow to do is say no to bad fats (yes, the entire euro saver board and everything else found in that vicinity), limit my alcohol consumption to my diet drink only (sorry Guinness, I’m talking about vodka soda with double lime), start making meals that consist of veggies instead of what’s on the 3 euro special, and resume working out at once.
Vowing to work out is fine and dandy but if I don’t find it convenient and simulating then I’ll
drop it like a hot potato once again. So thoughts about joining a gym or some sort of team flew through my mind but the conclusion I came to was forget the gym, I have St. Stephen’s Green. I have a park at my footsteps and it only makes sense that I use it to my benefit. So today, I set off on a recon mission to see if running through the park would be possible with all the tourists and couples mucking about. Within 10 minutes the first runner zoomed past me and it was clear that the only thing that’d be stopping me from starting to run again would be me. So unless some unforeseen miracle happens overnight, I’ll see you bright and early St Stephen’s Green with trainers all laced up and ready to go! Here’s hoping (and praying) that I can see this one idea through to completion. Fingers crossed…