You know, maybe it's all that Top Model influencing my life, but I couldn't help but notice in the huge mirrors so thoughtfully placed in the gym that face you working out that when I'm walking on the treadmill I get a bit, well, hippy when I'm walking with my gut sucked in to get maximum work-outness. It's almost as if I'm on a moving runway, placing one foot directly in front of the other! It's almost as if I'm sashaying my way to the modelesque body buried somewhere beneath the layers of pizza-induced fat!
You know, I talk a big game about a paired-down wedding but however it plays out, I think I'm going to need a really long aisle way to strut my stuff. (Note to self: will need to practice runway walk with Dad.)
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