Now let's get one thing straight here! Mrs. Jarcy is not fat. Flabby, perhaps. Do I mind strangers seeing me in a bathing suit? Well, sort of but not so much. They're strangers, I've reminded myself I'm married now and it shouldn't matter if anyone cares what I look like.
Which of course if bullshit.
So I think I've found the ultimate catapult into workout mode...get yourself cast in a show where you must make a quick costume change and there's nowhere to do so privately. Last night I flashed my Hanes undies AND Barely There bra for boys I've known for years as I changed from one costume to the next. I imagine them still disoriented from the ordeal..."was that really Mrs. Jarcy in those boy-type Hanes? Weird."
Yes, it is. Or was. And will be for the next few months. So I'm going to follow Jackie Warner's idea (you know from Bravo's "Workout") of Sunday being a "cheat day" and eat whatever the crap I want today. How convenient for me that today is Sunday! And then I am cracking down on all the junk I consume as well as walk anywhere/everywhere. If I need to run an errand in Skokie I'm walking and will snack on almonds and an apple. No more thunder thighs or me. They're banned until this show is over at the very least.
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