...or more like a teenager, I decided to go on a diet. My plan was to lose 20 pounds very quickly so I dieted, exercised and gave up soft drinks. The giving up soft drinks was actually pretty easy and something I'd already done and lost a few pounds, but the dieting was very hard. There was a menu, and it was very sparse, and tasteless and really not very encouraging to a young girl who decided she needed to shed a few pounds.
The exercise, as always, was difficult, but I tried and managed to fit it into my afternoon activities. By giving up my afternoon television and running around the house, I was able to get some exercise in, and start to feel good about the fact that I thought I would starve to death before all this weight was off.
One Saturday I was running and mom was walking, and my brothers were hauling hay into the barn. I saw this cool looking stick on the ground and went to stomp it and it wiggled away, turned to face me and scared the devil out of me. I somehow managed to jump up from trying to stomp down and got back and away from the snake as it rounded on me. I froze staring at a baby copperhead and hollered at my brothers to come help, and they, having seen the whole exchange, laughed at me and didn't come help. Mom, who was rounding the carport, saw what was going on, managed to grab a hoe that was sitting on the porch and came over and chopped that baby snake to a million pieces. It was disgusting and fascinating at the same time...
And somehow I lost my verve for exercise that day (and for many thereafter)...
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