Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't say that lightly anymore. I've out-lived my father by nine years, and my mother passed away at 62. That should be enough motivation, but it doesn't seem to be all the time. It's a burden to be fat. It's not fun, and it's damn hard to lose it. Plus, I believe menopause has me in its grip, and that will make it even harder - or so I'm told. I've got an appointment with the doctor at the end of the month for an official weigh-in, and to catch up on three years of missed appts. due to a lack of insurance. With that taken care of now, we'll see what all my stats are - and I'll post them, because I want people to know what I am or am not up against in the fight to be healthy and smaller. I wish for a punching bag and pink gloves for tomorrow - if not, I'll get them for myself. I know that I need the cardio, and my ankle is still a big problem in doing exercises with Jillian. The bag should provide the cardio, be easier on my ankle, and get out my aggression and frustration. At the very least, it should help my arms - they seem to want to wave hello to everyone lately!