Pretzel Weight

I promise I’m not fishing for compliments, and I know that my kind and loving loved ones will tell me that I’ve not gained an ounce since my 16th birthday. But the truth is that a season spent in the land of pretzels and Nutella (and sometimes pretzels dipped in Nutella) which came directly after a season spent in the land of cheese (with the cheese sometimes deep fried) I’ve begun the slow process of weight gain. Ten pounds since the wedding day, to be exact. And so, with the season over and the carb-heavy diet of Germany at least temporarily behind me, I begin my quest. To walk, bike, run and yoga off the extra bits that have clung to the region between my knees and my belly button. Use your imagination as to what that looks like.

Day One of this plan, which fell on a Saturday, was inspiring, as the sun finally came out and the springtime-Winter Wonderland called to me. My favorite form of exercise is anything done outdoors, the smell of the inside of the gym just kills my motivation. My relationship with my best friend was, in fact, forged on the bonds of skipping class and finding mountains, forests, and beaches to explore on snowshoes, skiis or feet. And so, with my Real Boy, my Best Friend, and her Real Girl, I took a deep breath of Upper Peninsula air and hit the road. Feel the burn!

3 thoughts on “Pretzel Weight

  1. The curses of foreign cuisine. I’ve always wondered how the Chinese stay trim. I ate my way through a stack of assorted steamed dim sum (yum cha) yesterday and gained weight. The annoying thing was I felt hungry an hour later.

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