Looking down on my own self every day in the shower is a revelation as to the mini-paunch that is slowly (and surely) developing itself into the huge flab monster that I once had. (Oh, let me be a little vain already.)

Regardless of a colleague's comment this morning that I resemble a "bamboo", which doesn't necessarily mean I'm not flattered (I am), I feel that I have to shape up or ship out. Like a friend once remarked, the more pressing matter at hand is to "get fit, not lose weight". I agree, yes. To a certain extent as well. Don't want to be all muscle-happy like Mr Arnie or Lita.

Wish me luck. (I shall not procrastinate.)