Ripped and Limped

There is a limit when working out. The picture shown is an image of someone I never want to look like. There is nothing cute about this woman. First of all where are her boobies?

The gym I work out at is a "Judgement Free Zone" and they don't let you forget about it. It's posted all over the place. The crazy part is that on the first Monday of the month they serve pizza. It's not pizza with mushrooms or olives it's the kind of pizza that has a pool of grease in the middle surrounded by bacon, pepperoni's and ham. Thank GOD I don't like pizza. It looks very good and everyone eats it. There are empty pizza boxes by the dozens filling trash cans like nobody's business. I'm not quite understanding this concept. Why don't they give away free bottles of water or protein drinks? Gatorade? No, this place goes for the gusto...I think it would be cheaper to just lay out a tray of Snickers and Milky Ways. Good thing I don't run the place.

Other than all you can eat pizza Monday's, I love that place. I go in full of energy and leave limping. There isn't much I can do there but what I can, I do. If I could cut my left leg off at the hip I would be much happier. When I walk I have to talk to myself. I say "don't limp...Pam, don't limp." Walking out of the gym I limp. I don't care. On a pain scale of 1-10 with 10 being the worst...my pain would be in the 70 range.

I ride the bike (the one's with the back support) and I walk on the treadmill. I can't wait for the days when I can jump on the stairmaster. It's a goal I have.

I never want a six pack...hell, I never want a 1 pack I just want to look good in my clothes. My smaller clothes.