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I’m squashy. As in, my middle. And my thighs. And my upper arms. And my stomach. And, especially, my boo-tay. It’s not pretty. Oh, the worst? My hips. They are… ample. No. That word is too mild. They are astounding. Stuck on each side of my body like giant boulders, each sitting under a neat row of unfortunate love handles, they live a life of their own. The rest of my body, though imperfect, fits into comfortable knit clothes, obeys when I put on my “controling shapeware” and manages to disguise itself, if clothed properly, like a presentable figure. My hips, however, do not. They jut out rebelliously, and, even under clothes meant to “drape” and “skim over”, they let their freakishly large presence be known to the world. I have all but given up on them.Not yet, though.

I’m starting this blog to help myself get into shape. I want to loose weight, and I want to loose these hips, but I want so much more, too. I want to walk two miles and not think twice about it. I want to open jars easily, bend over effortlessly and not ache. I want to walk into the devastatingly cute boutique shops in Manhattan that I can, for the first time in my life, afford, and not worry about not finding anything that fits me. I want to look the way the rest of my life feels: fabulous. I have the world’s most amazing husband (Seriously. You can look it up. I have the certificate and everything.) We have a beautiful house, great friends, plenty of money, lovable dogs, close extended family, and a rock-solid marriage.

I just want rock solid abs, too.