Shakin’ it with a dance critic

22 09 2010

I cannot get my daughter to dance alongside me when I workout.  Instead, she sits on the sofa staring at me.  There’s a healthy amount of pouting, the usual requests for snack, but thankfully, no demands that I stop.   I keep waiting for her to correct my form since she watches me so intently.

I’ve managed to workout every day since Sunday.  You may say, Four days?  big deal! Well, it is a big deal. Once I get into a habit after a few days, I start looking forward to my workout. It happens every time I start a workout plan. No matter the pain, this is fun!  Maybe because I get so little fun time just for myself, the workout is a mini-escape, even though I’m not even leaving my living room.

The most satisfying part of all this working out craze is that my husband now feels compelled to out-do me.  If I work out 40 minutes, he has to go at least 45 minutes.  He should feel a little threatened! A 26-week preggo should not be exercising more than her younger husband.

And this is all a prelude to the postpartum fitness blast.  We have got to get some serious life insurance, and I do not want to apply while still a fatty.  Hubby has lost a lot of weight, but he’s still considered fat. We’re aiming for healthy BMI’s. It will be very difficult to reach that goal. Why not start now?

I just wish the dance critic would get off her butt and join me.  Hopefully, I’m providing a good example for my skinny minny KB.

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