January 7

I became aware today that this space was becoming a written version of my internal dialogue - some of my stinkin' thinkin' which is part of what got me into my current predicament.  And by current predicament I mean size 24 stretchy yoga pants.

So I took a deep breath, brushed off my disappointing weigh in and decided to shake things up a bit.

So here is Fat Girl Truth #27:
I am a sitter.  I sit.  I sat.  I am sitting.  I will sit. I like to sit.  I sit at work.  I sit in the car.  I sit at home while I am watching tv and reading.  I sit on the porch to enjoy outdoor time.  I sit at the park while my dog runs around me.  I sit at parties.  I take sit breaks while shopping. 

I am out of shape and so therefor I sit.  And/or I sit so therefor I am out of shape.

Over the past year or so, I have heard trainers and physical fitness gurus say that sitting equals death.  I heard this.  I had to hear it a few dozen times.  But I heard this.

I didn't go out and buy one of those crazy stand while you work desks or anything.  Yet.  But here is what I have done for most of today:  I set my timer on my phone for an hour.  When the timer goes off, I wrap up what I am doing and get up and walk about my office for five minutes.  Just walk leisurely, stretch, visit, etc.  And then I come back to my desk and set my timer again.  I am going to do this tonight at home too.

I know this doesn't take the place of a work out.  I know it is not the answer to my problems.  I know I might not ever run a marathon.  I am ok with that.  But I don't have to be a sitter either.

As always thanks for listening.

With love,
Super Amy
(the sitter quitter)