I really don't worry about my weight all that much. Honestly I don't. I naturally have a pretty high metabolism (Praise The Lord!) and I stay fairly active. I mean, I have 3 young children, ha!
So last week, when my abs started getting harder and harder to see and when my abdomen began looking more and more like I had a little "pooch", as Josh and I refer to the bloated look I often get around the time of my period or during the first several weeks of pregnancy, I would never begin fretting about getting older and my metabolism finally starting to taper off.
Good grief, didn't I remember the pain I was in and realize that maybe that had something to do with it?
Nope, not me!
I also wouldn't be so determined that I was "losing my figure" and, in spite of the pain, set up my Pilates mat and DVD and lay down to begin the "sidekick series".
No way! That's just stupid. I mean, that's just asking for more pain!
And since I just KNEW this all had to be related, I'd never lay on my side, unable to do the exercise, hoping that maybe by watching it my body would be motivated to get rid of the "pooch" anyway:)
Good thing that didn't happen to me, because then I might just feel stupid for even attempting pilates after learning that I was having medical complications, not a mid-life crisis, ha!
And I'm way smarter than that:)