A bike. For 7 miles. Hills, lots of hills.
So for over a month, I have been either riding the bike for 7 miles, or walking for 2 miles. At least 5 times a week. This was supposed to help me drop some weight I had managed to accumulate. I have yet to really drop any pounds. It is annoying.
I continue to do it, because at the very least, my legs will look nice, and maybe my cholesterol will go down, so I don't have a freaking heart attack. Gotta love genetics.
Every time I ride the bike, my legs feel so sore, I can barely stand it. They burn, like someone has taken a match to them, from the inside out. Every time.
Every time, I think I will not be able to do it. I think I will have to stop, because it hurts. Every time I push myself harder. I am waiting for that rush you are supposed to get when you run/exercise. I don't know that I have gotten it yet. I live in eternal hope of actually toning up, dropping some pounds, and not looking like a lopsided bag of flab.
So today I will do the ride, I will hurt, I will think I cannot do this, but it will get done. I will come home, shower and then clean the house. Maybe I will eat, but then again, if I eat, I know I will only gain weight. Maybe I will just drink unsweetened tea and iced water all day, instead of eating. Maybe I will look in the mirror and finally see me, the way others see me.
I doubt it though.