I so effortlessly managed to eat my way into my “Winter Pants” during Christmas, so I sucked it up and on New Year’s Day I stepped on the scale. Without naming any numbers, let’s just say it was WAY WORSE than I thought. I was beside myself, I knew I had put on a few pounds, but had no idea that it was that bad!
Due to eating my willpower along with everything else I could get my sticky little hands on, I decided I would make a few New Year’s resolutions. I sometimes do very well making resolutions and sticking to them. I do my book work the old fashioned way in a ledger, and then enter it into the computer for taxes. The year RJ was born I would do my monthly ledger every month, but then waited until tax time to enter it all into the computer. It was brutal! So last year’s resolution was to enter all my bookwork into the computer at the end of the month. I did really well. It was wonderful to not have to start from ground zero for taxes this year. So hopefully I was faithful enough to have made that resolution a habit.
So this year I want to lose all the weight I gained from June until January, but more importantly my resolution is to just be more conscience of what I eat, and make an honest effort to move more. The most difficult part about this resolution is the being patient, just because I ate on this weight in what seemed like a matter of days doesn’t mean it will come off that way.
So the first step to my resolution: Watch what I eat. Of course I had been doing this. I watched my hand put food in my mouth over and over again and the little voice in my head that is supposed to say STOP must have been on vacation somewhere. Since New Year’s Day I have been trying to be more conscientious of what goes in my body, it is just so hard! The Husband could eat breaded cheese balls, a cheeseburger and have ice cream afterwards every day and still keep his youthful figure. Me, I just smell it cooking and lick the spoon we used to scoop the ice cream and gain 5lbs. It’s really not very fair. I made lunch for the 3 of us, RJ, The Husband and I last week. I made jalapeno poppers and corn dogs for the two of them, and I had a grilled chicken breast and asparagus. I know for a fact I had not only the healthier meal, but also just a better meal. Yet I sat and drooled over the jalapeno poppers and corn dogs as if they were having a gourmet meal and I was eating dog food. The ironic part of it is I don’t even like corn dogs. It’s just the idea that I wasn’t supposed to be eating them.
Then there is the whole exercise part of the resolution. After I had BR I was very dedicated to walking on the treadmill. I worked at it, and it was just part of my day, I made it important and made a point to make time for it. For the Labor Day celebration one summer our town held a triathlon. We could compete in teams or individually. I swim like a rock, so we put together team and actually competed in the triathlon. We weren’t winners by any means. There were actual real athletes competing against all us redneck athletes. It felt so good though! I love the way a good run makes you feel. I was in the best shape I had probably been in since high school.
I was finally down to a size I was proud of, I felt good, and I was in good shape. Next thing I know I am pregnant...again. This is not the first time this has happened to me. After I had TB I lost a bunch of weight and then got pregnant. I’m beginning to see a pattern develop. Maybe I shouldn’t be in such a hurry to take this weight off? Now, RJ is 18 month old and I am nowhere even close to being in shape. The only shape I am is round.
This time around I am finding it very difficult to stick with the exercise. I still like the feel after a good run on the treadmill, but I’m having a hard time doing it. I use the term “run” very loosely. I imagine when most people picture somebody running for exercise they see a graceful marathon runner running towards a finish line. In all actuality if somebody were to come in and catch me running I am sure it more closely resembles an elephant with asthma. I plod along like an old plow horse on my super noisy treadmill while gasping for air. It’s so bad that if the phone rings while I’m running, I won’t answer it. Who wants to listen to me breathing hard long enough to catch my breath enough that words can come out? So leave a message, I will call you back when I don’t sound like a balloon somebody is letting all the air out of.
Then there is that damn Jillian Michaels. My sister says “Oh yeah get a Jillian Michaels video, they’re great!” Yes if you are willing to try to kill yourself while somebody tells you how you should be able to do jumping jacks because she knows 400lb people who do jumping jacks. Well I may not be 400lbs but I have delivered 5 babies, and there are some things I just don’t do anymore, and definitely don’t do them unless I have an empty bladder. I can’t even jump on a trampoline with the kids anymore, and jumping jacks aren’t a whole lot better. When you watch those workout videos you kind of imagine to yourself that you look like they do. First you gracefully stretch down and touch your toes then walk out and do a push up then walk your hands back up until you are standing again, then repeat gracefully. Ha Ha Ha. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good view of my toes let alone to bend down and touch them without pulling something. Oh to be a fly on the wall, I probably look more like a bowling ball with legs rolling around on the floor fighting with some imaginary being.
Well I’m going to try to stick with it even though I look and sound like a wheezing pachyderm. With any luck by summer I will be in shape or at least a different one.
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