If you are a regular reader of my blog, you have probably figured out that I hate exercising about as much as I hate having cavities drilled (well, actually, I think I hate exercise more than that, but only slightly less than I would hate being eaten to death by fire ants).
So, out of desperation to once again fit into our already oversized pants, David and I have caved in to family pressure (seriously, my parents bought a Wii) and ordered one for ourselves. I am actually, dare I say, excited to try it out. If I live through the shock of discovering my Wii Fit age to be 157, that is.
There is something slightly odd about buying a video game console for exercise. But if it gets me to work out, it will be a miracle akin to manna in the wilderness (and probably be just as boring and tedious, but hey, let's not press our luck into God sending us quail till it comes out our noses).
The Wii will probably tell me I am unbalanced elderly woman, but then, I guess I've always been mature for my age. It can't be worse than starving to death on weight watchers, can it?
Don't answer that.