Battle of the Bulge

 

She’s fallen so far off the wagon
She’s underneath with a box of doughnuts
Clinging to an axel with the crook of her arm
With powdered sugar dusting her clothes

In a battle where victory is measured in losses
Her hard fought wins are overcome by gains
She rallies the troops for yet another charge
Mentally bracing herself for the fight

Her feet pound the treadmill
The first volleys are fired
Synapses are sparking
Endorphins exploding

Adrenaline pumping, drawing battle lines
Standing to fight the caloric army
As it marches relentlessly towards her
On the treadmill she can keep them at bay

Her steely resolve in the face of battle
Unwavering in these early days but knowing
How easily the treadmill becomes a drawbridge
Under the constant siege of the fat brigade

The keys to victory are remaining vigilant
Sticking to the plan of attack, strategically
Deploying offensive exercises while
Maintaining defensive dietary parameters

Reciting the words of Napoleon as mantra
“Victory belongs to the most persevering”
She soldiers on, one step at a time, knowing
The little losses add up to great victory

And someday the kingdom of fit will be hers

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