Work it on out...

So we started P 90 x yesterday...
Honestly I have never been one of those ladies who thought it was necessary to work out so hard you want to hurl, but I did it last night. Count this as one more stupid thing Ryan talked me into in my life. I don't necessarily think I need a program bent on fashioning my body into something like Ms. Universe... I am a self-assured 130 lbs, and I don't think I look too bad. Ok, well, my bottom is a little bigger and saggier than I like, and my bo.obs... don't get me started on those... alls I can say is Caleb better be grateful and frickin' super-healthy and smart after my sacrifice of my ta-tas. But I'm doing this mostly for him. While I'd be content whiling away the nights watching Crime Drama (I can hear Ryan rolling his eyes out there somewhere... "oh-my-goodness-not-another-episode-of-NCIS!"), Ryan is a mover and a shaker, not content to sit too long (unless it's some mindlessly boring reality show about decorating or cooking that makes me want to go to sleep), and so this is my way of supporting him (dammit) and spending quality time with him. It's kinda fun, sitting side by side doing sit ups and yelling "Damn you Tony Horton!" at the TV screen together, in a wierd sadistic way. Well, at least we're doing it together, ya know? And hopefully it will bring me a little more energy and enjoyment of how I look in a bathingsuit this summer. We'll see... I may only last a week, or I may go the distance, but I'm not going to try to predict what will happen. I do know that Ryan better not say A THING about the further loss of my Ta-ta's for the cause. NOT. ONE. THING. MISTER.