moving...out

After I picked myself up off the ground when we separated, I figured it was a good time to get a fresh start. I chopped off most of my hair, reorganized/redecorated the house, and went on a huge shopping spree and loaded up my closet that had just doubled in size. Since I was in a sense, starting over, why not start with a bang. One thing I had planned on doing as well, was taking better care of myself. I wasn't eating all that much after the separation, but after I get used to my new life routine, I started pigging out again.

I've always had a good appetite, my genetically quick metabolism gives me an excuse to eat a lot. I recently noticed some of my new outfits were feeling a little snug in places. Granted, I've been the same dress size since high school, I knew 30 was quickly approaching and I can't ride on the fast-metabolism-lucky-me train forever. To make matters worse, while walking my class to a resource yesterday, I noticed my rear was bouncing like jello. The jiggles reminded me of how badly I needed to get back into yoga.

Yesterday evening shortly after I arrived home, I bent over to love on my Chihuahuas when I heard the back of my dress strain under the weight and promptly rip stitches right out of the seam. The dress was less than 24 hours old and I'd busted out of the seams! Although I'm relieved it didn't happen at school, I'm horrified that it happened at all. I immediately changed into sweatpants, dusted off my yoga gear, and got busy.

An hour later, I was exhausted. I hadn't done yoga since we were in the middle of infertility treatments and embarking on the IVF, so it was truly a work out. Hopefully doing yoga will make me feel better on so many levels. Not to mention saving my clothes from torture. Cheers to getting toned & trim!