I promise you....

Remember my second post ever when I said that I needed to lose weight? Well, now I REALLY need to lose weight. It all got away from me. I know not how. I mean...I do, but I'm going to pretend I don't for the indignant fun of it.

All I know is I have only lost six pounds in the past million years it seems like so, obviously, I need to kick it up a few notches. Speaking of kicks.....the bad thing is that I have, yet, another mystery injury. This time it is my left knee. I was told it was sprained, but I have no idea how or when I sprained it, which really seems to annoy people.
"What do you MEAN you don't know how you did it?" "That's crazy talk...you don't just sprain a knee and not remember how!"
Yes you do. Or I do. Or did. It just started hurting and swelling and here we are, my giant knee and I, the comedy duo of the year.

But that is KNEEther here nor there.

My point is, it is making the VERY necessary exercise I need to be doing impossible. Unless I can just move my arms around really fast while elevating and icing my knee. Will that burn calories? It's worth a try I suppose. Better than nothing and twice as funny.

Wait...what am I talking about?

Right...my pledge. So I read in one of those healthy women magazines (Self? Shape? How to Unfat Yourself?) this weekend and they said that proclaiming your weight loss goals to the masses (or in my case the three people that read my blog...Hi Matty!!) ups your chances of success by some great percentage. I think it might have something to do with shame or whatever, but it's worth a shot.

Here is my pledge:

I, Mrs. CTP, being of marginally sound mind, promise to lose 40lbs. by my 32 birthday. I will do this by drinking less wine*sniffsob*, eating better (which I'm already on top of) and flailing my arms around until my knee heals to burn calories and get into shape.

I will track my goals here and hopefully at the end of the journey I will hold up a pair of humungo jeans and then surprisingly jump out from behind them in much smaller jeans with a better hair cut and a tan.

Let the obsession begin.


PS - I have no idea what that last statement means, but it sounds kind of bad ass so I'm leaving it in.