I feel like I have always been one of those people that needs a stick shoved up their arse to get them to do anything remotely physical. Not literally, obviously, but it's true. My husband, and probably my Dad, will quite happily verify this. It's not that I don't enjoy it, it's just the will to get up and do something when my bed is so very warm and cosy. I've definitely gotten better, and I've certainly lost the majority of the weight I wanted to loose - but I just can't seem to get across that finish line.