Give Me a Hand
I wish that I could get past the scale. I wish that I could revel in my achievements without thinking about what "the scale says." It's like some overbearing parent that you can never please. And it sits there and taunts you without ever saying a word.
I worked out by myself again today. But I'm kind of getting used to it. That's how I started out.
Monday begins the new workout routine. I'm looking forward to doing something different. I saw the write up in my folder this morning, and the exercises are listed. I'm not sure what they are exactly. But I'll let you know.
I'm thinking about getting a video camera. If I have enough nerve, I could document my journey on video. I also need the money to buy the camera.
Ever notice that some parts of you look older than other parts, for example, your hands? My hands look old. Lotion makes them look a little better for about three minutes. Then they go back to being wrinkled again. I'll be 50 in September. People tell me I look like I'm around 40. But my hands tell a different story. They scream 50. I wonder why that is? Why does the skin on your hands age differently than the rest of your body?
Anyway, I hope I have more to say on Monday. I be you do, too.
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