Competition runs fierce in my house. We play Wii bowling as a family with full taunting priviledges. If it's a nice day by the pool, there's at least one diving contest and a who-can-beat-mommy-at-the-backstroke game (answer: nobody). But ultimately, I am most competitive with myself, which is why I am now addicted to the Nike+ sportband. I clip the chip to the front of my shoes, go for a run and the little wristband clocks my mileage, time, calories burned and pace. Then I plug it into the computer and it downloads and stores my runs. So now I am obsessed with beating my time/distance and tracking my pace/hill ratio. It's like I'm in my own personal video game, and it's getting me on the road way more often than I used to. Just a tip.
I subscribe to the Men's Health email newsletters mostly because the links invariably take me to articles illustrated with pictures of really good looking young men with their shirts off. Today's installment was about the sandbag workout.
How to get your keester off the couch. Spring has sprung and that means the pressure is on. I've spent all winter cozied up in bulky sweaters and wrapped in soft scarves that hide my double chin. But it's going to hit 50 degrees today and that means a wardrobe shift. I feel that I have about six weeks to do some road work before I have to don the shorts and skirts still stuffed in the back of the closet. And yet, I'm still finding it hard to actually get out there. It's funny, I can maneuver and motivate every single person in my family to reach their goals, but can't kick my own butt. What's the trick?
