I took clothes to workout while I was in Paris. And I almost went jogging, like, once. Because the rest of the time I was spending every day walking miles and miles.
One day, we came home and just laid around for a half an hour--confused as to why we were so exhausted, we figured out that we had walked over five miles, just on the way home that night. What with exercising all day (i.e. climbing 400 spiral stairs up in Notre Dame--there are no landings in that bad boy), and eating exceptionally healthy foods, my sister declared we were on the "Paris diet". So I lost weight on vacation.
Come on. You can't say that too often. So I'll say it again.
I lost weight. On vacation.
Which leads me to my next happy statement:
I've lost over 20 pounds in the last 2 months.
Now, I know. Lawyer told me not to bother looking at the scale. But it was about the time I realized I could pull my pants a few inches away from my stomach that I started to wonder how much I weighed.
Still, I've been out of the gym a solid four weeks, and it is time to get back on it. No matter HOW painful it is to have to work out with all the Greek undergrads. Ugh. Tonight I got in there and it was jam-packed, almost on every floor. The weight room had a waiting line. So to the cardio room I went...
Just have to get back in the swing of things. It felt good to go, though. Felt like I was doing something good.
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