Fighting the demons one day at a time

Today is 40 degrees. (That's about 30 degrees below what it was this weekend). And raining. It's times like these that I have to hold my fiercest battles with my nemesis, Arthur. Because I still had to go to boot camp. In the cold rain. And boy, did I want to stay in bed. But there I was, running in the rain. Laying down doing presses with the cold rain pelting my face. And doing burpees and mountain climbers and pushups with cold soggy gloves and frozen hands. Why on earth would I ever do that, you ask? Well, for starters, last night was another official weigh-in/remeasure/photo night. And I'm officially down 11 pounds. And I've decided I've wallowed in this damn disease long enough. For four years it's kicked my ass. And now I'm kicking it back. 11 pounds, 6 weeks, and I tried on clothes yesterday and while it fits, I'm about 5 pounds away from being a comfortable size 8 again. Plus I think it's funny that it freaks my neighbor Phil out that I come home everyday at 6:45 with a full workout in. As I believe they say in real boot camp - Hooorah!