Walking a Mile in My Shoes…No, Seriously, That’s What I Did

This summer is all about Operation “Get Skinny and Hot and Strut Around in a Bikini in Completely Inappropriate Places”. As the title suggests, last night E and I decided to walk home from work (I am completely aware that she appears to be my only friend. This is not the case, though I do spend more time with her than my own family. We work together, though, so it makes sense. Right?). Deciding to better our physical fitness is our goal for the summer, though doing so in 30 degree heat may not have been the smartest idea. I started sweating after walking for a block.

“We’re going to do this. We’re going to look awesome for the August long weekend,” E gasps between strides. I can’t say anything. I’m focusing on breathing, which is decidedly more laboured than it should be, given that I haven’t been walking for longer than 10 minutes.

I have to walk for about an hour to get home, while E has about 45 minutes on top of that to get to her house. It’s well over a mile, but the title of the post alludes to the saying about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes, and I liked it better. So it’s not true. Sue me.

I felt fantastic when I got home, all fit and breathing heavy. M, however, made sure that the pride didn’t last long.

“Why aren’t you sweating? You should be breathing heavier,” he chastises.

“What? I am! Can you not see my hair? And look at the back of my shirt. All sweaty.” Only now do I realize how disgusting this exchange was.

“Oh. Did you just pour water on yourself?”

I can’t win.

Has anyone ever seen the Olympic running races (I feel like there’s a more technical term for those, but I honestly have no idea what that would be right now) where the athletes freak out and pull their shoes off at the end of the race? And then their attendants hose them down with water because they’re so hot? That was me when I got home. My feet were burning. I’m pretty much an Olympic athlete now.

My walk earned me 3 Weight Watchers activity points, which can be used for food later on in the week. Fantastic.

I felt great all night. Fit, toned, and healthy. That is until I drove by two girls running in shorts and sports bras along the street. My self esteem plummeted to the negatives at that point, not to mention that I almost got into car accident by scowling at them instead of watching the road.

It was then that I decided I will be running in a bikini by the end of summer (you’ll notice that I have not specified which summer. I am determined to be skinny. I am not delusional enough to think that it will happen in 3 months. Though I hope it does). Inappropriate and possibly dangerous? Yes. Will that make me reconsider? Hell, no.

I’m already making a list of where I can wear a bikini. Church and work are at the tops of my list. I am open to suggestions.