The picture that horrified me into finally going to the gym

What a pound looks like… a slab of butter.

As much needed rain pelted down from slate skies, I contemplated the day, one I planned to spend in fuzzy PJs, at the computer working more or less.

Maybe I’d make brownies to accompany the damn fabulous ice cream I created yesterday. Maybe I’d blow off the afternoon’s work to curl up in front of a few episodes of West Wing (I’m currently fan-girling my way through for the first time. All my love to CJ!).

But no.
My cozy warm day was interrupted by the most upsetting graphic imagery. Pictures that had me hightailing to the gym.
Or a carton of sour cream.
What, you wonder? Photos of a pound of human fat. Yellow and curdle-esque. (You can click here to see. And apparently buy a chunk for yourself.)
Considering I’m quite a few of those chunks over normal–enjoying my winter coat, I like to think–I started picturing the yellow gunk I’m carrying around. And for the first time in awhile, I busted out the workout gear and headed to the gym.
Normally I don’t think of a pound as being all that much of anything. But then I started to picture those pounds in yellow gunky tissue form. Inside my body. Clogging up arteries. Actually making my blood pressure go up. And that got my motivation going more than anything.
Or one of my mom’s Frankenstein oranges. This one weighed in at 18 oz!
So friends, all this is to say, I’m back on the exercise bandwagon. Today was baby steps with 30 minutes of run/walking on the treadmill with some lunges/squats/stretching after. (Can someone tell me when running becomes tolerable? Ever?) I’ll be back to zumba and PIYO soon, too, so stay tuned for more snarky observations of group fitness.
Until then, anyone else find motivation to exercise in unlikely places? Any tips or tricks you use to stay in shape?

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