A note to self: I'm going Rocky Balboa on your a**.

I'm talking a good ol' fashioned raw eggs, running in the morning beatin on some meat *tee hee* ass whoopin'.

If it's not good for me I'm not eating it. I'm not going to get the butt I want by sitting on the one I have. Depression can eat me and I better like it cuz honey my "I'm done with this ****" moment has arrived . 

I'm pulling up a chair and watching this movie. You go girl.

Better yet I'll watch it while on the treadmill. Yeah.

ok, so maybe I didn't run this morning but I went for a walk. 1.75 miles in 29 minutes. Eh, it's a start.