Dear J,
Our absence to this blog has mirrored my absence to the fitness world. In August, I stopped working out. To make matters worse, K. is losing weight faster than Lindsay Lohan on a three-day coke binge. I know I’m supposed to be all supportive spouse, but sometimes, okay, all the time, I’m jealous as hell.
Thus far, he’s lost 62 pounds. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of him! He’s doing a wonderful, incredible, awe-inspiring job of being committed to a life of moderation and fitness. Dammit. I need to kick it up 300 or so notches or he is going to officially weigh less than me and I can’t let that happen! To weigh more than my husband would make me feel all “here comes the bride, all fat and wide” and I don’t think my fragile psyche can take that.
So, my friend, I need some words of wisdom, encouragement and love to navigate through the ominous overindulgence about to happen up in here for the holidays. Can you help a sistah out?
Love,
A
