To say I’m not fat would be an outright lie. The muffin top jiggling over my once-fitting jeans would testify to that.

5 months ago, I ran every morning. 10k each time. Yeah, I invest in good running shoes to protect my legs and glucosamine for my joints. Back then, my abs were flat. I swam some evenings too. about 20 laps, so I could eat as much as I wanted and still stay fit.

4 months into a desk bound job, I’ve gotten lazy. I run more for that mental boost that’s better than coffee. At first I’d get up at 6 to run before work. Then skip lunch to hit the gym.

Late nights meant sleep’s more precious so eventually, I skipped the morning runs for an extra hours zzz.

Lunch time gym gets kinda lonely when everyone is out having lunch with friends, so I stopped the lunch time workouts as well.

10k runs were on Saturday mornings when it didn’t rain.

All the while I continued eating as much as before and blimped out as a result.

Hubby kept telling me I was getting fat but I denied it. Hey, I can still zip up my jeans… barely.

Then, my ultra-cool sis-in-law came with bags of designer togs she wanted to give away. Some weren’t even worn before.

5 months ago, they would have fitted me.

Now, I tore one trying to get into it. Even the ones much too big for her were way too small for me.

I finally admit to my weight gain and will do something about it. Tomorrow.

Ok that’s what we always say about starting on a diet or a new exercise program.

You see, tomorrow never comes.

I’ll work in a run or workout later today. Will let you know about it tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I’ve got an exquisite pair of wool pants I couldn’t zip up and a lovely dress that showcases my beer belly (and I don’t even drink beer) in the closet as weight loss motivating factors this time around.