I absolutely hate paisley prints and yet that is where my life is headed if I don’t drop some weight. The designers are cruel when it comes to larger women’s styles and as skinny models fight over an M&M, my clothes keep getting tighter.
January is the month of the Do-Over. Diet fads are in full swing and gyms are at maximum capacity. As stated in my previous post if I were to lose 2lbs a month for a total of 24lbs in the year I’d be a happy camper. Let’s be clear that is my minimum goal. In reality, I would love to double that.
Give up bread,
Sugar is bad,
Cut out carbs,
Eat raw and
Consume no ALCOHOL! OK, this last one is just craziness!
These are common refrains heard by those of us that need to lose weight.
But hey, it’s not the food’s fault. No- it’s all mine. A teaspoon of sugar didn’t get me this way; I simply Eat too much and Do too little. I enjoy the taste, the smell and the comfort of food. Ahhh…is that heavenly scent a cinnamon bun?
Simple remedy… Eat less and do more.
Sounds easy, but here’s the problem- I’m lazy. I don’t like to exercise. It makes me sweat and it hurts. It doesn’t help that all of my passions involve sitting down. It’s hard to write and run at the same time. Reading a good book requires a comfortable chair with one’s feet curled up beneath them. Only difference now is -I need a bigger chair.
As I get a little older (never mind how old) I notice that the weight doesn’t fall off, NO- it just falls down…to my ass, where it hangs on for dear life.
So whether I like it or not, I have to get off my chair and get my butt moving. The Nike commercial rings through my ears ‘Just Do It’. Cue the Checkmark.
I head over to my weights, blow off the dust and do a short set, but- there is another reason I have to start moving. A couple of co-workers have talked me into signing up for 2x a week exercise classes.
And these aren’t just regular co-workers, no they are the dreaded boot camp lovers- what the hell have I done…
Muscular Strength and Endurance, neither of which do I have, is the name of the class. The main thing I will have to endure is the sideways smirk of all the fit, sculpted people, bouncing around like rabbits; while I attempt to follow their movements with sloth-like precision. Here’s hoping I can lift my arms up without having them wave 3 minutes after I’ve put them down.
It’s all good- because even if I only lose 24lbs this year- that is still 24lbs that have kissed my ass good-bye and I’ll take that.