The real curse of the holidays

Everyone talks about why they hate the holidays. It's too commercial. It's too frantic. Expectations are too high.

I hate the holidays because they are too fattening. I received a rude awakening when I got on the scales recently and tipped in at 170. Somehow, between Thanksgiving and Xmas, I had managed to acquire a few unwelcome pounds. It's always the same thing, every year. No matter how much you promise yourself that you will exercise moderation, there is always someone shoving a plate of cookies under your nose saying something like, "Oh have one, it's the holidays." Or I have to listen to RG tell me that holiday calories don't count. This coming from the only person I know that can eat like a pig and lose weight.

So, once again this morning, I headed out the door to the gym. It was an act of will.

As I was enjoying my slumbers last night, Mother Nature decided to rain down ice. I swear I got more exercise trying to remain upright going to and coming from the gym. However, needs must when the devil drives as they say, so I am trying to get back into the habit of eating sensibly and exercising portion control, while bumping up my routine to defeat the evil forces of delicious fattening food.

I suppose I should take a glass half full attitude towards this. Look at it as motivational and try and think about how this will get me to bump my workout up and get closer to my goals.

In fact however, I am just looking forward to being able to button my pants without holding my breath again.