Since the end of last summer I have been in a steady decline in terms of overall physical fitness. I have not felt anywhere near peak form in at least a decade, and my pregnancies and birth of each of the girls - while a glorious and magical time that I enjoyed every single second of minus the puking in weeks 8-14 - did a real number on my already wavering attitude toward my body image. The General, in the fifteen years we've been together, has spent a good deal of time avoiding the question that puts fear in men all around the world: "Do I look fat?". He has spent those years reassuring me that, no, you do not look fat now shut the hell up already and let's finish off this pint of Ben & Jerry's before it melts. Although I know that The General is no dummy and would never answer this loaded question in the affirmative (RIGHT?!?!?), I've in the last couple of weeks decided it's not about what The General or others might be thinking. Quite frankly I'm just sick and tired of being jiggly. Being out of breath for a full ten minutes after a run from home plate to first base is unacceptable, having your four year old call your stomach "bouncy" is downright embarrassing, and the fact that my double chin now has it's own double chin is simply appalling. I look at pictures of myself and want to cry. I see myself in the mirror and am horrified. This has got to stop before I end up on Maury Povich as the woman they had to lift out of her home with the assitance of a crane and flat bed truck. And let me tell you a little secret. The day I knew this had all spiraled out of control? It was the day I observed my love handles jiggling excessively when I was hitting the whammy bar with gusto while playing Guitar Hero. How many things are wrong with that scenario? And, Lord help, that was way back in February. You'd think a girl would recognize the signs for an intervention STAT, but I can be a terrific procrastinator.
After reading my friend Meghann's recent blog post about goals she has set for herself I decided to join the bandwagon (of two) and set some goals for myself on a quest toward better health and wellness. I am the Queen of Excuses when it comes to sticking to an exercise program. I'm too tired, it's too hot, it's too cold, I'm hungry, I just ate, I'll do it tomorrow, the girls need a bath, I have too much to do, my favorite show is on T.V., I haven't updated the blog in a few days, and on and on and on. Therefore, since I seem capable of coming up with every possible reason not to follow through, I've decided to put it all out there in hopes that broadcasting my attempts (or lack thereof, more importantly) will make me accountable. I don't have the luxury of a personal trainer barking orders and pushing me through reps, so you're all going to have to fill that position for me.
1. I am not setting a weight loss goal right now. I don't want to be a slave to the scale because I know this about myself - if I don't lose weight quickly or steadily I will become highly annoyed and discouraged and will quit.
2. I would like to do some kind of physical activity - walking, step, Tae Bo, Core Secrets, etc. - at least three times a week. I think this is a reasonable goal to start with. I don't want to set my expectations too high because, again, if I don't meet my goal I'll just end up saying "Screw it, this is too hard" and throw in the towel all together.
3. I need to subscribe to the "food as fuel" logic. I have observed that I tend to be someone who eats when hungry, or bored, or stressed, or when I think I should eat even though I'm not really hungry. I want to start putting food in my body with the emphasis on how it will sustain me as opposed to "oh, yummy in my tummy!". I've also become a speed eater lately, and I need to slow down and be more conscious about what (and how much) I'm taking in.
4. On the flip side, I'll be damned if I'm going to deprive myself. "Everything in Moderation" will be my new catch phrase. I will stop when I am full no matter how much is left on my plate, and I will step away from the cookies after my first one.
5. Hello, I'm 30. Perhaps it's time to start taking some daily vitamins? I know I need more calcium, and as a chronically anemic child I'm thinking an iron supplement wouldn't hurt both in addition to a multi-vitamin. I'll have to consult my on-staff pharmacist in training on this one.
6. Drink more water. I used to be so good with this, and now I'll get to dinner and realize it's the first glass of water I've had all day. It's not that I'm drinking a ton of pop or anything - maybe one a day at work but other than a glass of OJ in morning I'll just go all day without drinking at all. Hydrate, woman!
7. I am not 17 or 21 or 25 anymore. My body has gone through a lot in the last four years, and never again will it look like it did before then. I need to be okay with that. I need to know that I'm not doing this to look like I did ten years ago. I'm doing this to be as healthy as I can be where I am now.
8. Most importantly for me, I need to expect setbacks and be prepared for weakness. BUT I WILL NOT QUIT! Just get back on track and go on with your bad self.
I need to do this for myself, and I need to do this for my girls. I want to be healthy for them as much as for me. I know that I feel better about myself when I'm active - I sleep better, have more energy, have a better outlook and a clearer mind. I'm going to document this journey on Twitter, and I've put a link to my tweets over on the sidebar under the Google ads. You can keep track of my progress there, and I'm asking you all to be the thorn in my sides and kick in the ass when you see me slacking. Be prepared for some lame excuse if you call me on it, but know that I am grateful for having my back. Just don't be offended when I start calling you names.
And if anyone is feeling inspired and want to join in on the "fun", email me. There's power in numbers. Come on, who's up for the challenge? Maybe we could do a One Carbon Hill Biggest Loser! Doesn't that sound like a great time?!?!?
P.S. If you're coming to the OCH Fantasy Draft on Saturday and you notice me hanging out by the brownies and Queso Dip, I'm warning you right now to just let it go. I need to ease into this new lifestyle, and Saturday night is bound to be one of those days where I get a little off course. You can make fun of me behind my (fat) back so long as I don't hear you. There's a lot of pressure as Commissioner and remember that whole "I eat when I'm stressed" excuses? Yeah, totally applies here.