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36-24-36? Haha, maybe if I were 5'3"

Oh my god I am SO pathetic. I think I might be in worse shape than I was when I was heavy. Four minutes into my first attempt at what is admittedly a tough workout video (but not this tough) my arms felt like they were going to fall off. Another ten minutes and we were into squats. Well, they were. I was “marching it out” because my thighs were having seizures as a result of the few squats I managed. Luckily they recovered for plie time, but still! I have no idea how this happened. Probably the car my parents gave me for my 22nd bday, mixed with moving to the flat land of London. Yeah, I’m thinking that’s the combo. When I’m here I walk all the time, but it’s flat. When I’m home in SF it’s hilly and I try to walk a good bit but it’s nothing compared to when I used to have to take the bus/ walk everywhere. Gah! Anyway, day one is over, and although I dread the pain of tomorrow I’m also looking forward to feeling buff again. Stupid maintenance-requiring muscles.
In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I’m back in London. And flabby. My time at home was wonderful, filled with friends and family and sunshine. And cookies. And Easter candy. And oh so good and buttery foodstuffs. Not that I gained any weight (because my body doesn’t work in such normal ways), but I did get, shall we say, softer. Only I don’t mean my wit or my sense of humor or human decency. I mean the paunch.
Oh, and of course, last night I got home from two wonderful nights in Paris. The boyfriend took me to celebrate our 2 year anniversary (gah!), and the trip was filled with joy and cuddles and walking and coffee and people-watching goodness. And bread. And 85% fat butter (oh god orgasmic). And chocolat chaud. And froid. Oh, and did I mention all the skinny women? Do I even need to mention them? Stupid skinny women. Like I didn’t feel fat enough.
So there you have it. My first entry into the hell-log. I'll try to only keep you posted when I have something remotely interesting to say.
Right now my head is swimming from 30 minutes of cardio. Seriously. Pathetic.
PS I noted three things while doing the lying-down portion of my workout:
1. we might need a legit vacuum to supplement our less than perfectly effective swivel sweeper. I’ll be looking into dustbusters as soon as I’ve regained lung function.
2. hardwood sticks to imperfectly (read: not) toned backs. I need a mat.
3. my arm muscles seem to have atrophied. It seems having a boyfriend to carry things for you has a downside…
PPS could I BE more pear-shaped? I am so NOT going to post my measurements here but let it be known that my hips are almost 10 inches bigger than my chest! Oh, the agony.
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