Hi, I'm Kelly.
I live in NYC with my wife and our 2 dogs. I talk about them a lot. I also talk about food, tv, LGBT rights, and my attempts to live a healthier lifestyle.
If running, recipes, gifs and gay rights aren't your thing, feel free to move along. It's a big internet and there's room for all of us.
DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed on this site are mine and in no way reflect my employer. Who is awesome. And should totally give me a raise.
Last night I was looking through some old pictures - trying to find some motivation to get back to the gym. Between vacation and just regular life shit, it’s been 12 days since my last work out. 12!! Sluglife, y’all.
Below are the worst - the pictures that truly make me cringe. And no, the one on the left isn’t the dude from Lost - that’s me in 2002. Ugh. Looking at these just makes me so sad.
Then along came Lacey. She really inspired and encouraged me to quit smoking and take my health seriously. She always says she wants me around for a long long time and with the path I was on, I’m not sure how long I would have lasted.
But then I look at some recent pictures that actually show a little progress. Most days I feel like the road ahead is so long and difficult that I’ll never make it. That these last 25/30 lbs are going to be the death of me. But I’ve come too far to give up now.
Lacey even pointed out that I’m so much happier on mornings where I go to the gym. I just need to try really really hard to pretend like that feeling is SO MUCH BETTER than, ya know, sleeping.