as you know, this year has been a series of campaign launches, each designed to get me moving again, to drag my good habits out from all the junk stored in the way of them and clear off all the cobwebs. i’ve been running sporadically, i’ve thought a lot about eating better and sometimes i’ve managed to get on quite a roll with that. i’ve contemplated all kinds of healthy eating strategies, in my fantasies, i’ve taken part in plenty of fun activities for exercise and, in my dreams, i’ve lost weight. but, for all my good intentions, body, you have outdone yourself in delivering a message that things really need to change via a stinging slap in the face.

stretch marks? really? did you have to go and bring out the big guns?

i know. i deserve it. shitty food, too many drinks and an indulgent, sedentary life – i was practically begging for it. but, still… STRETCH MARKS?? a little drastic, wouldn’t you say?

no matter, i’m no victim. and this is probably just the kick in the ass that i needed, because, seriously? last straw. here’s where i get serious. here’s where the game changes. here’s where i finally become accountable for my actions (and non-actions, inaction, whatever.)

they say x marks the spot. well, stretch marks the spot where my life changes.