Oh yes, I'm getting a whole lot of lovin' since leaving Japan almost three weeks ago.

Love handles that is.

A fat and flab build up around my midsection is in progress. I shelved my exercise routine, as well as my low carb-high protein diet; I eat and sleep more, at least while in New York. I'm on vacation, for crying out loud! I can have an unrestrained and unchecked supply and dosage of calorie-rich soda, choclits, pasta, pastry, and pizza without the guilt and the obsessive-compulsive glance at any product's Nutrition Guide label.

Then the sight of love handles. Ugly. Why these bulges become love handles is beyond me. The feel of flab is not exactly something to excite one's sexual drive; Fat is more tasty and tempting within one's gastronomical pleasures, perhaps, but not a wattle to find arousal from.

G is not keeping mum about my lovehandles, either. She gets to drop a line or two (on best-timed occasions, at least) that I am packing in more fat than developing a 6-pack abs.

Browsing over fancy magazines and watching programs (from 900+ channels!) are not much help, too. Torture, even. I endure the sight of flat hard ab Calvin Klein type guys and end up either frustrated or challenged (the former more recurrently).

I miss my gym sessions in Japan. I used to visit thrice a week at least with 10reps, 2sets per machine and a full 30 min/12kph run. I took pride at staying fit and toned. Now, I dread to weigh or measure myself.

Okay, so I need not stay frustrated nor embarrassed.

I need to be challenged.

I've always wanted to try to jog around Central Park. I played this thought over and over while I was on the immobile treadmill in the gym in Japan. But given the proximity between Long Island and NYC, I thought of just running around the Jericho Turnpike block since arriving early this month. Still, with winter chill in linger, I yearn to opt and try the stationary bike beautifully decorated (as it is still unused) beside my bed, instead.

Three weeks after, none materialized (save for a visit in a local gym two weeks ago). Again, the word is frustrating.

Okay, challenge. I need to be challenged.

I'll start slow. Tomorrow, I'll hit the bike. Next week, I'll probably cut my carb intake.

Sounds good, you might say. Well, remind me! 

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