Oh right, I have a blog.

I have a tendency to forget that, don't I?  It's been a few weeks since I last updated and I'm proud to say not only am I still chugging along, but I didn't throw myself on my sword and give up after a (relatively small, .4lb) weight gain last week.


Week one was disappointing.  I know, I know:  I should take pride in any loss, but I really had myself convinced that I was going to lose 3 or 4 pounds, so only losing 1.6 was a bit of a slap in the face.  This is what I looked like when I got on the scale the next week and found out not only did I not lose anything, I GAINED .4lb:

(Well, I'm slightly paler than that, but you get the idea.)  But after sitting down and doing the autopsy on the previous week, it was suddenly not so much of a shock that I gained.  (Seriously, pizza AND a medium blizzard on the same day?  What was I thinking?!?!)


Okay.  Back to square one.  This week was much better.  I managed to navigate Mother's Day ("Please don't buy me candy or chocolates!" --me to hubby.) and even a trip to a fast food restaurant.  (Did you know they serve food that's not deep fried and doesn't involve the words "crispy" or "bacon ranch"?  Awesomesauce!)  I've come to realize that weight loss is not just about eliminating entire food groups or cutting calories back to 800 a day.  It's about analyzing your eating habits and strengths and weaknesses and making changes where you need to.  Oh, and I have realized that there are certain foods I absolutely cannot have in the house or I will be forced to eat them.  (Curse you, potato chips!!!  Get off my lawn!  *shakes fist*)  So fresh fruits have replaced chips and pretzels.  Grilled, lean meats have replaced fried and sauteed options.  Casseroles are probably a thing of the past.  (Though I do enjoy the challenge of taking a fat-laden, creamy casserole and lightening it up without losing all the flavor and creamy-comfort-food-ness of it.)  I'm so excited that summer is almost here, because soon there will be an abundant bounty of fresh fruits and veggies available.  (Farmers' markets ROCK!)  


I think I may have finally cracked the code about exercise, too.  I don't do well when I have to exercise by myself.  I lose motivation easily, and my determination wanes, and I really, really, really need someone to call me up and say, "Hey, lazybutt, get your behind down here and walk/exercise with me."  Luckily for me, I have my mom to do that.  We've been walking 3 times a week and are about to increase our walks from 4.4 miles to over 5 miles.  (Whaddya know...the fat girl can walk!)  In fact, we've committed to walking a half marathon next May.  (Hold me, Mommy, I'm SCARED!)  And one of these days in the not-so-distant future, we're planning to join Planet Fitness together.  My goal is to get to doing some sort of activity 5 days a week.  And you know what?  It will happen.  This time feels different.  Maybe it's because I don't feel alone.  Having friends and family along on the journey really makes a huge difference.  Being a realist, I know I will never be a size 6.  But I can be healthy.  And I will.


Because I lost 3.2 pounds today!  Bringing my 3-week total weight loss to 4.4 pounds.


Now 'scuze me for a second while I pat myself on the back...  

Kids say the darnedest things

This morning, when I went in to wake my daughter, she looked at me, all showered and dressed at 7:20 am, and asked where I was going.  (I'm usually in my jammies, hair sticking up like a scarecrow, at that hour of the day.)  I told her I was going to Weight Watchers and she asked what Weight Watchers is.  I said they were helping me lose weight and get healthy.  She thought about it for a moment, then looked at me and said,

"Oh, so when you lose weight will you not have all that (and she pointed to my midsection) and be normal like me?", then patted her flat stomach to show me what "normal" was.


Ouch.

I know it wasn't intentional.  She's six years old, she really doesn't have any filters yet.  I asked her if she'd love me more if I was "normal".  As she was pondering this, my 8-year old son yelled from the next room, "I love you just the way you are, Mom!"

(Have I mentioned how much I love that boy???)

The good thing is that her comment sparked a dialogue between us about love and beauty and that external appearance should not be what we use to judge people.  I think it made an impression on her because later last night, she came up to me and apologized and said I was beautiful and that she loved me very much.  She was so contrite, which is unusual for her because she's normally very unapologetic when she says something only a bonehead would say.

Speaking of Weight Watchers, yesterday was weigh-in number one.  I'm down 1.6 pounds!  I was disappointed at first, because I had myself convinced I'd lost at least 4 pounds.  But I'm not going to be disappointed because a loss is a loss, and at Weight Watchers, we celebrate a loss regardless of the size.  I was re-reading my blog entries and I saw that last year when I was doing the WW thing, my first week wasn't a huge loss either.  So if I'm following a pattern, next week should be a much bigger number.  My mom and I were talking about it and she was so proud of me for losing 1.6 pounds and she scolded me for being disappointed.  It's silly to be disappointed, but years of watching shows like The Biggest Loser have set us up to expect to lose the kind of weight they do.  Of course, I'm not working out with a personal trainer 8 hours a day, but I conveniently forget that part when I step on the scale.  Though I do have to wonder if I'm the only one who thinks the way they lose so much weight so quickly cannot possibly be healthy.  My doctor recommends losing one pound a week, and some of these people are losing 100+ pounds in three months.  It's always interesting to watch the "Where Are They Now?" episodes, because so many of them regain at least a portion of the weight they lost.  (The saddest stories are the ones where they've regained everything they lost and then some.)  I'm trying to be realistic and not set huge goals (as much as I'd like to lose 100 pounds by the time we go to Disneyworld in October, I'll be happy to lose 20 by then.) and to take pride in the little victories along the way.

So hooray for me!  I lost the equivalent of 6 sticks of butter this week!!!  Can I get a fist bump?

The fat girl lives!

Well, well, well.  Look who's still alive.  The original fat girl herself:  me.  Here I am, a year later, 20 pounds heavier (oh mah bob, really?  fatter???) and more determined than ever to finally lose this #$%^^&ing weight.

The past year has been designed by Satan himself to derail me and stress me out to the point of madness.  Between my husband's new job which keeps him away on a rotating schedule that never fails to be as inconvenient as possible (though I am very thankful he has a job and more importantly, a job he likes), a child who was diagnosed with a serious chronic illness and the eleventy thousand doctor's appointments, tests, meds, calls to insurance companies and trips to the pharmacy that have accompanied it, along with my mother's THIRD go 'round with cancer (seriously, Mom, three times?!), I've found myself making stress-induced trips to the fridge more times than I can count.  (And I can count pretty stinkin' high, so you know it's been a LOT of trips to the bloomin' fridge.)  Not that any of that is an excuse.  Because it's not.  It's as more of an explanation than anything.  I'm done rationalizing why I weigh what I weigh.  The truth is that endocrine disorder aside, and stress level aside, I EAT TOO MUCH.  There.  I put too much food into my body and don't do any exercise to burn the bajillion calories I ingest.  Hey!  I think I just had one of those Oprah-sponsored lightbulb moments!!!

So here I am.  Tipping the scales at an even unhealthier weight, but bound and determined that it will come off. We're going to Disneyworld in October and as shallow as it may sound, I don't want to a) be the big fat fattie some poor person has to squeeze next to on the airplane, b) be the big fat fattie who's huffing and puffing through the park, ready to stroke out at any given second and c) I don't want to look at my big fat fattie self in pictures for the rest of eternity.  Oh yeah, and I want to be healthy and not have a heart attack at 41 and live a long life, blah blah blah.  But mostly I don't want to see my bloated face in pictures EVER AGAIN.

In a day and a half, I'll head to see my good friends at Weight Watchers for my first weigh in.  Believe it or not, I'm actually excited about weighing in.  (I swear, I'm not on drugs.)  I've been working the program for 5 days now and I feel really good about weigh in.  It's so amazing to eat because you're actually hungry and not because you're bored and you've trained yourself to always have some sort of food product in your mouth.  I've been walking with my mom 3 times a week and I've surprised myself (and my mom) by walking 3-4 miles each time.  It feels really good!  I whine and moan the entire time about how my hips hurt and how I'm pretty sure I'll die before we get back to the car, but the reality is that I'm proud of myself for making the commitment and sticking to it.  It helps to have someone hold you accountable, and nobody does accountability better than my mom!  I bought a Dancing with the Stars exercise tape for days that we don't go walking, and I'm excited to learn the Latin dances.  (I'm telling myself it's not exercise--it's dancing.  And I looooove to dance!)  Thinking about buying a bike, but that's still a bit down the road.  (Have you seen those retro looking Schwinn coaster bikes?  So flipping cute!  I absolutely need to own one.)  My hope is that a year from now, I won't look back at this blog and see cobwebs because I haven't written any entries.  And it should go without saying that I hope in a year, I will not only NOT be fatter, but that I'll be considerably lighter.

Yup.  It's gonna happen.  I can feel it in my bones...

Still pluggin' along

Today was my third weigh-in day. I have to say, I was a bit nervous when my tootsies hit the scale. All I wanted was to lose .2 lb, which would have taken my total weight loss to 5 lbs. Much to my surprise, I lost 2.4 lbs, giving me a total weight loss of 7.2 lbs in 3 weeks. Not too shabby! I haven't been to the gym in exactly two weeks (yikes!), so it really shocked me that eating healthy was enough to warrant a 2.4 lb weight loss.

Speaking of the gym...I really, really, REALLY want to go back. Unfortunately, my strep throat/sinus infection turned into bronchitis, and I spent the better part of those two weeks I missed coughing and hacking and expelling great quantities of oddly-colored mucus from my lungs. Good times. Because I'm super lucky and have asthma as well, I really didn't want to make things worse by going to the gym before my body was completely healed. Well...the cough is (FINALLY) gone, so my (slightly smaller) butt will be back at the gym on Monday. The kids have new "babing soups" they want to break in, so we may possibly go up tomorrow for open swim. It's going to be rainy (again, big surprise) so there won't be anything fun keeping us from going. Aaaaaaand I just realized I have a lunch date with a friend on Monday, so if I do go to the gym, it won't be until the late afternoon/early evening. I guess that's doable. I definitely don't need any more excuses/reasons not to work out!

So I've been doing a lot of sewing this past week, and I found out that it has a wonderful side effect. When I'm caught up doing a project, and my mind and hands are occupied, I don't go into bovine mode and graze all night. Eureka! I think I've found a way to re-train myself not to eat everything edible in the entire house at night. I bought a big pile of fabric and a stack of patterns yesterday, so I definitely have enough projects to work on for quite a while. I'm really encouraged by my weight loss and I really want to keep this momentum going. Norah and I are going to have a whole new wardrobe of handmade clothes by the end of this! And hopefully I'll have to practice my tailoring skills by taking them in week after week as I shrink. Ooooh, I really like the sound of that!

I'm a loser.

A big one.

3.4 pounds, to be exact.

Feelin' pretty proud of it, too. Okay, so being sick helped. But even while being sick, I still tried to make healthy food choices. And obviously, it worked!

So I'm now down 4.8 pounds. Only .2 lbs away from hitting the 5 pound mark! In the past, I would have pooh-poohed losing 5 pounds, but now, I am reveling in it. I think that was part of my problem. I always looked at the big picture and saw that I had a gajillion pounds to lose (that's a number, it really is) and losing 1 or 2 pounds felt so insignificant in the face of having so much to lose. I really like the way Weight Watchers breaks it down into small percentages. Reaching a goal of 5% feels so much more attainable than hitting the 100 pound mark. And doctors now say that a loss as small as 5% or 10% can have a really big impact on your health, so I'm looking at it in little chunks instead of a big honking lump.

We talked about hunger versus appetite at the meeting today. It was really eye-opening to think about how often I eat when my body hasn't actually told me I'm hungry. It's scary to think about how much food I stuff in my face when I don't need it. I've had the internal dialogue in front of the fridge where I ask myself why I'm eating something when I just finished dinner an hour or two prior, then go ahead and eat anyway. I think my goal for this week is to really think about what I'm eating and when I'm eating it, and only eat when I'm hungry. Not when I'm bored or just out of habit, but when my stomach is actually empty. Such a novel concept, I know.

So I've really been enjoying the WW meetings. Of all the "diets" I've been on, WW has always been my favorite. Not just because what they say makes sense ("Watch portion sizes and make healthy food choices"--such a radical idea!) but because of the support you get. It doesn't hurt that I've been meeting my bestie (whom I rarely get to see) every week. It's nice to have a buddy there to share the ups and downs of weight loss. But seeing all of those other people there who are going through exactly what I am and who know just what it feels like to be trying to lose weight is wonderful. The leader, Pat, is funny and very engaging. She always has great advice and tips and really makes you think. Plus, the meetings are something I do solely for ME. Most of my life is spent worrying about others and their problems, needs, wants, etc. But for 40 minutes a week, I get to go and do this for myself. And I get to raise my hand and share my weight loss and get praised for it. Yes, I need that. I need to hear other people tell me I did a good job. Otherwise, I feel like an island, if that makes sense.

After the meeting today, Kim and I went to The Big Evil and bought new swimsuits for the kids. Tomorrow, we're heading to the Y for open swim. Probably not a whole lot of aerobic benefit to floating around in the pool, but after a week of being sick as a dog, it's at least something. I didn't make it to the gym once this week, which I'm not super happy about. But I figured the other patrons wouldn't be so appreciative of me hacking and coughing and hoarking up a lung on the treadmill. Plus, I didn't think it would help my recovery too much if I overdid it and aggravated my upper respiratory infection. (Did I mention that I also had a sinus infection and strep throat? Oh yeah, you really wanted ME next to you this week!) If I can kick this cough over the weekend, I'll be back to the gym on Monday. I really wanna capitalize on this weight loss and push myself a little harder in the exercise department. Shoot, I might even get brave and try out some of the machines in the weight room! I know, I'm a maniac. You may laugh in my general direction now.

In other random news, I absolutely hate the low-fat balsamic vinaigrette salad dressing I bought. It tastes overwhelmingly of basil. Or oregano. Or maybe it's thyme. I dunno, something green. I just ate a salad that I despised because a) I was too lazy to make a new one and b) I am too cheap to throw all of those ingredients out. Ugh. I need to brush my teeth. I have the most horrible basil/oregano/thyme breath EVER.

I'm a hot mess.

(Today's blog post will be full of whining. A true pity party, if you will. There. You've been warned.)

I'm sick. I have a loverly chest cold, complete with a wracking cough that's left me in agony. Every muscle in my chest and back hurt like there are a thousand knives being thrust into me. My nose is stuffed, my throat hurts, my tummy feels wonky, and the cherry on the sundae is that a certain event that occurs monthly in a woman's life is going to occur tomorrow, so I'm an emotional trainwreck as well as a physical one. Pity, party of one, your table is ready.

I had all these plans for today. I was going to get up early and hit the gym before going to the funeral home (a dear friend lost her battle on Friday), then come home and do a little sewing and cook a nice dinner. Yeah. None of that is happening. Well, the sewing might but that's it. And dinner. Gotta feed the anklebiters. I've also taken the gym off of tomorrow's schedule because of the funeral and the fact that I'll probably still be coughing up a lung.

But Wednesday's the day, I swear! I will be at the gym on Wednesday come hell or high water. And at least I can eat healthy in the meantime, right? The silver lining of being sick is that I have no appetite at all. (Amazing what not being able to taste anything will do for your waistline!)

I'm off to contemplate a nap. I've been up for two hours. It seems like a good time for a nap.

*sniffle*cough*honk*cough*sniffle*

The Big Weigh-In

Wasn't so big, ackshully. (If you ever notice me spelling things completely wrong and you wonder what's wrong with me, it's just me lapsing into LOLspeak. See www.icanhascheezburger.com for an explanation of why I do that. Apparently, somewhere in my brain, I think I'm a cat.) I made it to my first Weight Watchers meeting bright and early this morning, and hopped on the scale all prepared to see a nice big number up there. (It happens on the Biggest Loser. Not so much in real life. Bummer.) The perky girl behind the counter said, "Great job, Jennifer. You lost 1.4 pounds."

Huh? 1.4 pounds? Please let this be an April Fools' joke.

I was expecting at least a 5 or 6 pound weight loss. 1.4 pounds. I know I should be thrilled at any loss, but I really was expecting to lose more. Now, I know most of the people on those shows throw up huge numbers that first week because they lose all of their water weight and I am not carrying any since I'm on a water pill for my high blood pressure. (Seriously, I pee every 20 minutes. If I didn't know better I'd swear I was pregnant.) So the weight that came off was purely weight and not just a gallon of water. But still. Boo.

Then I started thinking about my eating this week. Uh oh. Accountability time. I'm guessing the tater tots with cheese and bacon I had last night didn't help. (Don't you judge me. Don't you dare!) Or the Krispy Kreme donuts and pizza I had when I was out with my mom yesterday. (Side note: my mother is the devil. The donuts and pizza were her idea.) Okay, maybe that bag of baked Cheetos should have lasted more than 3 days. Oh boy. Things are adding up here. And I just remembered that I haven't been to the gym since Monday and here it is Friday already. So let's see...eating crap I have no business eating + no gym time = 1.4 lb weight loss.

Eureka!

I'm a genius. You may now bow to my superior powers of deductive reasoning. Eating crap will hinder weight loss. (You're thanking me for enlightening you to that little-known secret of weight loss, I know.) Not moving my chunky bottom will also not encourage the pounds to just slide off. (Seriously, I'm a fount of knowledge today. Soak it up, folks.) I could have declined to join my mother (the devil) in the indulging of Krispy Kremes. I could have only had ONE donut. I did NOT need to have two. (Though my mother [the devil] was disappointed that I didn't go into that box for a third because she didn't want to eat one more if I didn't eat one more. See? She really is the devil.) I could have opted for a salad at lunch instead of the pizza. This whole "going out with people" thing is harder than I realized. Especially my mom. See, the problem is that she is just getting over losing a bunch of weight from chemo, and she needs to GAIN weight back. And I'm a big fat fatty who weighs more than TWICE what she does (oh please, just kill me now) who is trying to LOSE weight. We're like Peter Pumpkin Eater and his wife. Or something like that. I need to find a compromise that allows me to make healthier choices for myself while still letting everybody else choose what they want. So next time we're together...no Krispy Kremes or pizza for me. Mom can chow down on whatever she wants. Me, I will follow the wise words of former first lady Nancy Reagan and just say "NO!"

So, okay, I'm learning a lot. And it's a process. And I can't undo all of the bad stuff I've done over the past 15 years in a week. And I probably need to ease up on myself. Baby steps. Gotta take baby steps. (I totally am hearing Bill Murray's voice from "What About Bob?" in my head saying, "Baby step to the refrigerator. Baby steps to the table. Baby steps to the scale." Ignore me. I'm sick and obviously have a fever and delirium.) I'm still going to do this. And I'm doing it for myself. Did you hear me? For MYSELF. Yeah, other people will benefit from it, but it's for me first and foremost. I deserve it and I'm worth it. Plus I wanna rock a killer body as I turn 40 and show everybody that 40 is the new 25 and all those little 18-year old Barbie dolls at the gym can suck it .

And now...a banana, some ibuprofen, and a nap. I'm pretty sure nothing I wrote makes sense outside of my head. Just humor me today, would ya? The congestion is blocking my brain waves. Yeah, that's the ticket. It's the congestion.

Cadbury mini eggs, I rebuke you!

Cadbury mini eggs are the instrument of the Devil. They call to me as I walk through the store. "Jennnn...you know you want me. I only come around once a year. I have a delicious crunchy shell covering creamy chocolate. If you say no to me now, I'll be gone before you know it."

I rebuked those Cadbury mini eggs not once but twice this weekend. And once you know how hard I tried to find them last week, you will see how much of an accomplishment that was. This weekend was about choices. Some of them good, some...not so much.

Friday, I woke up feeling really lousy. A headache and a wonky tummy made me seriously re-think my plans to work out. I was planning to take a cardio class and a water aerobics class. Neither of those things happened. Instead, I made Todd get the kids off to school and I went back to bed. I woke up a few hours later, headache gone, tummy back to normal, and decided that going to the gym was back on the agenda. Since I'd missed all of the classes I wanted to take, and I wasn't supposed to do the ETA (express training area) two days in a row, I hopped on the treadmill for a little walk. About 1.5 miles in, I was pretty sure my time had come and I would be seeing my maker at any moment. Sweat pouring down my face; hair, shirt and face utterly soaked, I thought my legs were going to fall off and that my heart was going to explode. I was probably pushing myself a little hard; 3.5 mph is fairly fast for a chunkster like me. I REALLY wanted to push the stop button and walk away. But something in me said, "Slow down a bit, catch your breath, let the cramps in your legs ease up and then crank it back up again." So I did. And I not only survived, I did another 1.1 miles! It felt good to push past the pain and the sweat and really kick that walk in the butt. Hooray for good choices!

Then Saturday showed up. And my ability to make a good choice apparently flew out the window. My mom came out Friday night and we had a pajama party with the kids, which was great fun. Saturday morning, we got up and decided to head to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. (You can see where this is going, right?) We got there at noon, and I really didn't feel like having breakfast. So I had a shrimp po' boy instead. Breaded, deep-fried shrimp on a cheddar cheese bun with a spicy tartar sauce. Fries and cole slaw on the side. Oh yeah, "diet" food for sure! Half a sandwich and all of the fries later (lucky for me I find Cracker Barrel's cole slaw yucky), I walked away from the table. That would have been bad enough, but then last night we had to work the 4-H table at Ag Days, and there just wasn't time to make dinner before we left. So guess who had two pieces of a Sbarro pizza for dinner? *raises hand* Yup. Me. Also a choice I knew was bad but made anyway. Could have been worse...I didn't have Todd get a stromboli for us to share along with the pizza, which is what I would have done in the past. Not really a "pat myself on the back" kinda moment, but even within the bad choices a good one was made.

Today, some better choices were made. Skipped the frappuccino at Starbucks and got a passion tea lemonade instead. (Caffeine AND fat free!) Grabbed an apple at Walmart to snack on during the ride home. Didn't indulge in a snackfest with Todd and the kids at lunch. Had chicken noodle soup (homemade and low-sodium, thankyouverymuch) instead. Tomorrow, back to the workout grind. Gotta find my class schedule and see what's doing at the Y. If I can't find anything else, I can always do the ETA and the treadmill again. Got a new iPod Touch on Friday (the cheap generic mp3 player I was using was driving me NUTS) and it's loaded full of my favorite songs. Nothing like some good rocking music to pound the treadmill to!

Oh, and just because I managed to rebuke the Cadbury mini eggs twice, I'll still be glad when Easter is over and that temptation is gone. I don't know how long I can resist their crunchy, chocolate-y deliciousness! Satan will not get to me with his little nuggets of doom. Not this year!

Inspiration, irony, accountability, and Jello.

Lots of words in today's title. They're all things that are on my mind right now.

Inspiration: It's been really cool reading comments from people telling me that I've inspired them with this newfound git-up-n-go and this blog. (I'm a bit of a comment whore. If you're thinking about commenting, please do. I need validation. I'm all needy like that.) If I had to pick one person who has inspired me to (finally) get off my tush and do something, it would be my friend Kim. Two (or is it three?) years ago she decided she'd had enough of being unhealthy and set out to change her lifestyle and kiss the excess pounds goodbye. And has she ever! She's lost lots of weight, works out every day, and maintains a healthy lifestyle. (Seriously, she's a maniac. She gets up at 4:30 IN THE MORNING and goes to the gym. 4:30. In the a.m. Now THAT'S dedication!) She didn't do some crazy crash diet where all you eat is grapefruit or pepperoni and cheese (Oy. Atkins.). She didn't take pills. She made healthy changes. And I applaud her for that. I think so many of us are looking for the quick, easy fix, but if you didn't get fat (or chubby, or fluffy, or "big boned") overnight, you won't get thin overnight either. I've tried the crazy diets. I've tried the icky "diet" drinks. I've tried just about everything but eating healthy foods and exercising. And guess what? Those crazy diets didn't work, but I KNOW that a healthy diet (and I hate using that word because it's not a diet, it's a lifestyle change) and exercise will do the trick. Anyhoo, not to get up on a soapbox... I find my inspiration in my friend Kim. And I hope to be able to inspire others the way she has done for me.

Irony: Does anybody else find it ironic that when you're on a diet, you seem to spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about/planning/handling foods? I could seriously spend a ridiculous amount of time portioning out food, and journaling about what I've eaten, and planning for what I'm going to eat in the future. It's like putting the meth addict in charge of the drug house, know what I mean? I'm looking at it like exposure therapy: the more I'm exposed to food, the more I'll be desensitized to it. That's what I'm hoping, anyway.

(Also ironic: the guy who did my orientation was about 25, buff as all get out, and HAWT. I felt sooo middle-aged and schlubby. He asked me, "What are your goals?" I pointed to my body and said, "To not look like THIS." That's a goal, right?)

Accountability: My cousin Lizzy said something last night about my blog and how it will keep me accountable, and I really liked that. I think that's partly why my attempts to lose weight have failed in the past. I'd start a diet, and be all gung-ho for it for a week or two, then eventually lose interest and fall back into those unhealthy old habits. It always made me feel like a failure when someone would ask me a month later, "So, how's the diet going?" and I had to answer, "Oh, I stopped doing it." I need someone to take me to task about falling off the proverbial wagon. That was one of the main reasons I started this blog--I hoped there would be people who would be reading and who'd come back to me and say, "Hey, you haven't blogged in a while--what's going on?" if I dropped off the face of the blogging world. The bonus is that it gives me a place to vent my feelings about this whole thing, whether they be good or bad. I know it's not going to be easy, and definitely not fun at times, but it HAS to be done. End of story.

And finally, Jello: What my arms and legs felt like when I left the Y this morning. I'm so glad nobody I knew was around when I got off the treadmill. I did my walk (1.15 miles in 21 minutes--not great but not terribly awful), went through the cool down phase, turned around to grab the towel and spray to wipe down the machine, and came this close to doing a faceplant right smack in the middle of the aisle. (And wouldn't I have DIED if Hot Trainer Dude saw me fall? Yeah, that would have just been the icing on the fat-free cake, huh?) I was able to maintain my balance, but I felt like I was drunk as I walked to the locker room. My poor body was all, "WTF, lady? I thought we had an agreement?! You don't exercise and I don't make you fall flat on your face. You're breaking the rules, chickadee." Guess it's time to re-examine that agreement my body and I had. I don't think it applies any longer. Time to mix things up!

Gonna be sore tomorrow. Thankful for ibuprofen, heating pads and nice, hot showers.

I like to move it, move it.

(If you have kids, chances are, you're singing that song from "Madagascar 2" in your head right now. I know I am.)

When I was considering all of the workout places I could join, I had it narrowed down to two: Curves and the Y. I liked the idea of the get-in-get-out workout at Curves, but didn't like that there was absolutely no variety at all. The Y, however, is full of different things to do. Plus, for the cost, I could get a family membership at the Y for just a little more than I would pay for myself only at Curves. It was an easy decision to choose the Y as my gym. Yesterday, I took a tour before I joined, and let me just say, I am EXCITED! Our local Y is chock full of activities to get me moving and grooving. One of the things that excites me the most is the pool. Friday, I will take my first water aerobics class!

It's for senior citizens. I'm pretty sure they'll swim circles around me.

But I'm cool with that! As I've previously mentioned, three-toed sloths and garden slugs are more active than I am, what with my fitness level being somewhere around -28. I like the idea of starting slowly and working my way up. I think if I try to start out at too high of a fitness level, I'll most likely fail magnificently. So Friday morning, I shall undertake my first SeniorSplash water aerobics class. I'm not concerned about getting into a bathing suit since I've gotten to the point where my suit consists of a turtleneck and capris. Okay, okay...it's a tank and swim shorts, but you get the point. My dear friend Kim suggested that for our 40th birthdays (mine is this December and hers is next February) we wear bikinis. I don't know about all that, but I'd like to at least get to a point where the thought of a bikini doesn't make me turn green and feel bilious.

The Y also has an Express Training Area (ETA) which is similar to the circuit at Curves. Tomorrow, I have orientation on that, so hopefully after I learn how it works, I can actually use it. The cool thing is that Jake can use that area with me, and he's excited about coming with me and working out. All three kids are looking forward to taking swim lessons, and Norah has decided that when she turns six she's joining the swim team. (They could all join if they wanted--I'd be completely thrilled if they actually wanted to do something sports-related!) I'm pretty sure Todd will never willingly set foot in the Y, but hopefully the kids and I can convince him that coming with us will be fun and not akin to torture.

Some day soon, I hope to take advantage of all the classes they have, which include Zumba and yoga. I have to admit, the monthly fee and the fact that I'm locked into a contract for a year is a powerful motivator. I really don't want to spend $60 a month on something I'm not using. That's just idiotic. But even more than that, I think this will be a great way to not only get myself up and moving, but my kids as well. The family that plays together stays together, right?