This morning was as good as it gets.  After a full eight hours of sleep with only two night-time wake ups from loud neighbors, I was off to the gym for 90 minutes of bliss, sweat and targets.  I met and went over a lot of my exercise goals today and it's a good thing.

I'm heading off to NYC now for filming the second hour-long episode of Healthy Vacations.  With my morning work out in the can (I had contemplated skipping it) it feels like I could rollerblade the Brooklyn Bridge with no bother at all.  I have walked over it already, a sight that I recommend seeing.  Stunning views and then you have to do the Manhatten Bridge as well, just to be fair.

So on the way back from the gym, wait, first as I was coming OUT of the gym, it was raining.  I contemplated for two seconds about phoning someone for a ride so I wouldn't have to walk the ten-minute (or less) walk to my apartment.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?!  I mean, geesh, I was already soaking wet from sweat, this rain would feel great.

Plus last night before going to bed I was looking over my journal from the bicycle trip and reading about the day we pushed the bicycles for miles in the rain, then road in a downpour for almost all the day.  That was in Massachusetts and freezing cold.  Today it is mild with no 100 pound trailer to tow behind me.

Smiling at myself for my stupid thought I tucked my purse under my arm which contains my ever-present Samsung digital camera and my phone.  I didn't want it to get wet, even though the purse is leather and the rain really wasn't coming down hard enough to soak it through in ten minutes.

Now just about a month ago I did this same move and my left arm shielded the purse completely.  Today I'm pleased to say, the purse got wet.  I noticed this and my grin got bigger.  My FAT arm is getting smaller.  The weight training is really working.  Woohoo!

All smiles now and a most unusual spring in my step, I bound for the shelter of my porch then a shower.  I'm more aware of my posture now when I'm sitting, standing, walking and stalking around.  I looked at my toes peeking out of my MBT sandals as I dodged the forming puddles on sidewalks.  My feet are actually looking better too.

From my first 140 pounds I have lost I have shed countless dress sizes but also two shoe sizes.  This was getting my feet measure at the same shoe store by the same person in the space of just one year.  Seeing my polished toenails I suddenly have this vision dancing in my head.

Remember that my legs are not straight, I wore braces to my hips until I was three years old due to a birth defect, plus I have had knee surgery, have stretch marks on my legs by my knees where my flesh has bulged out to bursting point with fat and my legs are not now or ever been closely able to associate with the word "sexy" --- all I can say is it's a good thing that Morton isn't a leg man or he would hate me.

But today, walking in the rain after taking 90 minutes at the gym to try to erase all the decades of damage I have done to my body, wearing my now baggy shorts that Stella from Cape Cod gave me in Maine, in June 2007 (Old Navy, size XL), I feel far from sexy, but for the first time in my entire life, I can see shape taking in my legs.  Perhaps if I'm lucky, work very hard and don't give up, one day my fat foot will slip into a sexy sort of shoe and with my legs toned enough that they don't wiggle and jiggle, I will even put on a short skirt.  Age appropriate of course, I don't want to get accused of being "mutton dressed as lamb" by Morton.

Getting into the apartment I fight the urge to wake Morton up (he was working third shift last night) and ask him if he thought my legs were looking more toned.  But I resisted, opted for the shower and am grabbing my packed bags and heading for the bright lights and the big city that is New York.

Who knows, maybe while filming I'll have to go into a shoe store or two and see if there is anything that works for me, or at least get a few pictures to dream about!

Priscilla