I just watched the biggest loser and now I'm all motivated. Um, some of these people weigh less than me now. And they started WAY BIGGER. Perhaps it is time I get off my bum and pretend I'm an athlete.
Now where's my personal trainer? Oh ya, I can't afford one of those. And my personal chef/dietitian? Oh ya, can't afford one of those either. Oh, and I have this thing called a JOB that they expect me to show up at which means -- I can't do two three-hour workouts everyday and still have time to grocery shop for produce and cook my own healthy meals.
Reality TV my ass. That's not reality. That's glorified fat camp.
I mean, it still makes me cry. And I still think what they've accomplished is nothing short of amazing. But then it just makes me frustrated. I mean why do you think the older people were the winners....? The one dude's gotta be retired. What else does he have to do but workout and eat right....oh, I guess that whole getting enough sleep thing might really knock a few hours off his day.
I wish I had a few months to just sleep, eat well, bust out some epic bike rides, do regular yoga to work the kinks out, maintain a strength training regimen.
Good thing I can retire in exactly, oh, 537 years.
All whining aside, I did get motivated. There are exactly three and a half weeks until the wedding. And more importantly....there are only SIX WEEKS to the first triathlon of my season.
I don't even know where my training suit is. And I recently found out that my pool didn't have water in it for a number of weeks recently due to some pipe fixing. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW.
Now that's reality setting in. Holy crap. I need to get to work.