Touching my arms. Stretching in the morning. Opening a can of soda. Putting my arm up on the ledge of my window in the car. Yawning. Getting in and out of bed. Sitting on the couch. Picking up the paper off of the porch.
It hurts when I move. BUT, it means I am doing something.
"Exercise GEORGE, It's Called Exercise!" Shouts Master P (although it sounds like 3 little beeps).
My BG's have been kicking major arse. My routine has been walking on the treadmill, punching the speed bag (love that!) and doing some push ups and sit ups via the exercise ball / the biggest handball my kids have ever seen!
It's not a lot. It's not probably what some spandex wearing beefcake would tell me to do BUT I am doing it and really that is all that matters at this point.
As soon as I lose some more weight I would like to go jogging around the neighborhood but I love my ankles too much to drop this fat ass on them any harder then I do day to day.
That's it for tonight. Thanks for all the encouragement! It helps a ton (or should I say 230 lbs?).