The Short Version:

I’m going to dance myself to fitness through Jazzercise, six times a week; I’ll take a picture in the same light, at the same time, in the same place, once a week to document progress, sharing tips along the way!

Eating all the things, sitting around all the days, and drinking all the wine is not exactly a recipe for a good, long life.

Granted, life is too short for celery sticks at every meal, but it’s time I made some changes.

I want to be strong. 

The ‘delicate flower’ thing isn’t doing it for me anymore; I’m not sixteen. I am not willowy. I’m aiming for strength.

I want to be carved, even just a little. 

Even when I weighed 25 pounds less, my shape still was more ‘potato’ rather than lean, mean, muscle machine. I want to change that.

I want to be active. 

I switched careers from one where I moved a fair bit (wrangling thirteen year olds takes energy) to one where I sit. A lot. Constantly, really. And since it’s been found that sitting a lot might just kill you, it’s time to start moving.

My mother died at age sixty-six, from what was essentially obesity. I am not obese; I am not even overweight. But I’ve been paying attention to that scale, and this is how it starts.

I will not repeat my mother’s mistakes.

Fitness, here I come!