Run, Fatboy, Run
The eating healthier thing hasn't been as bad as I thought it would be. At first, it felt like my best friend had left me. My sweet, delicious, greasy, salty best friend. But when you realize that best friend was secretly plotting to kill you, it makes it a little easier to break up.
The exercise has been much harder. The first day I ran my route, I ended up walking a good part of the last 2 miles. That's always so embarrassing, as you feel like the people driving by are laughing at you. There's a wicked uphill climb at the end of my route, and I actually tried to motivate myself by saying things out loud, like "if Kansas can win the national championship, I can make it up this hill." In fact, the homeless guy I hired to carry me up the hill thought it was really weird.
But I was stunned at the progress I made after just a couple runs. I can now make it the whole route without hearing the Reaper's footsteps behind me. I'm still afraid to step on a scale, though. I'm afraid that when the scale sees me coming, it will scurry out of the room. (This has now offically become my audition to start writing "Cathy" cartoons.)
So the next time any of you see me, don't be shocked when you see that I have the body of Adonis. My next project is to become three inches taller.