I Don’t Care What You Do

Let’s be clear:  I don’t care what you do.

Not one whit, not one lick, not one speck.



I.

Just.

Do.

Not.

Care.



Oh, don’t take that the wrong way. I don’t mean that like I don’t care what you do.



I do care.



I do.



What I mean is that I don’t want anything from you. I’m not trying to tell you what to do or what not to do.

I’m not trying to sell you anything, not trying to make you look at a bunch of ads, not trying to get you to do so much as click on one solitary linkity-link.



Oh, I suppose I wouldn’t mind if you’d leave a comment, but that has more to do with feeding my self-esteem than wanting something tangible from you.

But that’s not to say that I don’t want something tangible from you.

I do.

I’d like a clear-cut commitment to doing the things… all of the things… that you know you need to do to get this healthy living race car zooming down the track.

I’m having really good success these days with food tracking (thank you, my fitness pal),  exercising most every day and not talking myself into believing that drinking a bottle of red wine at night is okay because it's  “good for my heart.”

I love being in the groove – the thrill of snapping the latch on a pair of pants that’ve been languishing in the back of the closet, the euphoric smile that crosses my face during the final two minutes of every workout, the satisfaction of starting the day with good intentions and ending it with take-pride results.

But I really love it when I know others are in the same boat, rowing for all they’re worth.

Let’s get going.

Let’s get moving.

Let’s get fit.