My Father’s Ass

Care to sit with that imagery a minute? I didn’t think so.

I have my great grandmother’s hair. My hands look just like my grandmother’s. And, unfortunately, I inherited my father’s ass.

It’s not nice to think about. It’s less pleasant to gaze out. OK, it’s not really as bad as my dad’s bottom. But I inherited his weight problems, and that is my biggest motivator for exercising consistently and trying to keep my weight under control, which I do regularly with varying degrees of success.

I was thinking about this after reading Mighty Girl’s post about getting her health in order with exercise.

I commented about what I realize now is my second motivator: I’m cheap. If I find an exercise program or place I like that has value for the money, I’ll pay and go. If I’m feeling tired or lazy in the morning and considering skipping out on my prepaid bootcamp, I’ll feel a pang of guilt at throwing away money and drag my sorry ass out of bed. It’s a convoluted system, but it works for me. Motivated by money and my father’s ass.