I summoned Kerri’s internal motivational speaker this morning, who turned out to be a drill sergeant.

5:18 a.m.: Come on, Michelle, you can do this. You can get out of bed.

The drill sergeant was all nice and sweet until I was in the middle of my walk and ready to slow down (read: quit).

5:42 a.m.: You can’t slow down! It’s only your third day! Keep moving Kowalski! I know you’re sore, but work through it slacker! No, you can’t slow down until you get to that corner!

It really was a chore to get out of bed this morning since I was recovering from The Expired Food Incident of 2009 in which I accidentally ate expired salad dressing on Monday night and then expired parmesan cheese on Tuesday night. No, it wasn’t fun and I spent a considerable amount of time in the bathoom. And yes I've cleaned out the fridge.

I really forced myself to go, and felt like I had no excuse not to since I was teleworking today and would be sitting in my home office all day. My calf muscles were tight and my hips were incredibly sore (ladies, think third trimester sore). I actually appreciated the drill sergeant this morning *while* I was walking because I knew I could do it. I knew I had to do it.

When I got home I was hating the drill sergeant because I felt absolutely miserable. I was nauseaus and tired and really thought that if I hadn’t walked, if I hadn’t pushed myself, I would have felt fine.

Of course, in hindsight, I’m happy that I pushed myself or I’d continue to let myself slack. I know the sore muscles will go away, but sometimes it’s easier to say “screw it.” And frankly if I hadn’t designed this new schedule with so many people depending on me to be certain places at certain times I’d probably have quit by now.