Ever since I set this step goal for myself, I have made a much more concentrated effort to reach it. Something about posting it online makes me push a little harder. It doesn't matter if no one reads it, the fact that I wake up and post it gives me a sense of accountability - a little more wherewithal. To reach this week's goal, I have to achieve 6,500 steps or more a day (more if I miss a few, less if I do more). That might not seem like much, but since the surgery, I haven't averaged anywhere close to that. Last night at 11 p.m., I only had 2,500 steps and I panicked a little. How many extra steps would I need to do each day to meet the goal? How am I going to reach a higher goal next week if I'm struggling with this one? Why does pie taste so good?
I figuratively slapped myself in the face a few times, dialed up some tunes on my amazon app, and started stepping. Man, music gets me pumped! Right about now, funk's your brother...that's right this sea cow is getting funky. Before I knew it, I was working up a little bit of a sweat. Could I actually call this working out? The burn in my under worked calves said yes. By the time I hit Cher, I had to calm down a little because I was starting to channel my inner Richard Simmons, waving my arms about and getting sassy. My poor torso just wasn't ready for that kind of action. It was already 11:36 p.m. I had met my 6,500 step goal. Look at me go!
I drug myself up to bed where I promptly zonked out and dreamed of house sized steaks. I didn't wake up until 8:30 this morning, and when I rose, I was hungry and feeling the sweet sweet burn of victory.
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