There are days when I feel like I'm draaaaaging myself to the gym. Literally, like scooping my legs off the floor, forcing them into my workout clothes, and dawdling over to the door. The weeks after the wedding and through the beginning of August were particularly hard, because my numbers were on the level of "sucking royally" and my body was infected with a general feeling of "vlah."
Thank goodness that Chris is usually ready to roll. It helps to have someone who is also dedicated to being healthy, because it makes it easier for me to keep from slacking off due to my own laziness or vlah-ishness. Especially when work gets busy and freelance is hopping - getting my sorry butt to the gym becomes a real challenge. Chris and his equal quest for good health and a long life serve as more motivation to get moving.
It also helps that the Sausage does her part.
By trying on my running shoes.
Wrong foot, Siah. The other one.
There you go, piggy. That's the correct foot.
Diabetes requires support on all fronts. Even from the cat.