I suck, but that's OK

OK, so I didn't wake up in time to go to the gym before the fam. needed feeding and love. No matter, going to strap the kid into her stroller and go on a nice long walk. It won't be as effective as running on the hamster wheel at the gym but at least it's something. Worked out yesterday with Jake and it suuucked. I guess it will for some time, I just wished my abs (or where I believe my abs to be-can't be sure since they're cocooned in their fat shell) didn't hurt every time I laughed. Or breathed. Legs don't hurt as much and while digging through my clothing I was able to fit into these jeans I'd gotten too fat for. Granted they're still a little snug but I'm back in them!!! Haven't been weighed since Jake says I'm only allowed to look once a month for now, but I am starting to feel better, if not look a little better. Oh! And I apparently am a profuse butt sweater. WTF?!? Every time I peel off my gym clothes I'm confronted by soaked underpants, and not the sexy soaked that I read about in the cheesy romance novels I hide under my bed, but soaked with sweat. When did this start happening? The list of reasons to lose weight keep adding up and not having a sweaty posterior is near the top. I cut out after dinner snacks, which is tough since that's prime time emotional eating time for me, and am starting on the road to eating better. I decided to step down with the logic that a cold turkey would just make me crazy and set me up to attack the bakery at Vons Cookie Monster style. I'm ashamed to admit that sounds pretty awesome right now but I'll go ahead and assume that would not go over well with the nice manager there. Jake's going to give me formal routine to follow at the gym when I'm not working out with him and has warned me that we're going to step everything up after next week. I guess I'm prepared, but a little worried. I've been assured that I won't die of a heart attack, but I'm worried about dying of out-of-shapedness or something.