Truer words were never uttered.
I need a re-boot in the worst way. I KNOW how to do this; I KNOW what I need to do to lose weight. Why is it so much harder this time around? I've done this before! I lost 40 pounds, with no exercise, when I was 30. Now, 12+ years later, nothing is working the same way. Has my metabolism deteriorated that much in 12+ years? Now, without exercise, I'm eating eating eating and gaining gaining gaining with no end in sight. I'm completely disgusted with myself. I can go all day without cheating or failing, and then 8:00 p.m. rolls around, and it's like I turn into a Hoover vacuum - if it's within sight or reach, I'm eating it.
The worst (or best?) thing about all of this is that I don't despise exercise. I don't adore the pain during or afterwards, but I think of my treadmill time or elliptical time as "alone time," which is something I have very very VERY little of. When I'm on the treadmill, I get to throw in a movie (of MY choice! TRUE BLOOD! YEAH!), or blare Adam Lambert or Black Eyed Peas (which I can't do in the car with a toddler!) or sometimes just think or daydream. In contrast; I actually relish my hour alone, even if it means that I have to move and sweat the entire time. The thing that is so hard for me is finding that hour in my day, my week, MY LIFE. You would think that it would be a simple matter of sitting down at one of our Sunday "family meetings," blocking out 4 or 5 hours a week for Mommy's work-out time, and that would be the end of it. Not so. There simply are not 4 or 5 hours in our family schedule for this to happen most weeks. The thought of doing one or two treadmill walks per week seems like a waste of time to me. What good could that possibly accomplish?! I can't imagine it having enough positive affect to keep me motivated.
(I can already hear distant voices, all saying, "EVERY workout helps! Every little bit gets you that tiny little step closer to your end goal!")
This, of course, is true. And utter crap at the same time. I simply don't believe that one or two treadmill walks each week are going to peel 40 pounds off my body. Nope.
I'm a little short on time tonight for writing. I could have started earlier, but casually glanced at my Netflix Instant Queue while my Mattar Paneer was heating, and before I knew it, I was watching "Sleepless in Seattle." It's been years since I've seen it, and it's just such a great flick! I loved Meg Ryan before she rearranged her face.
|LOVE Sleepless in Seattle.|
|Trout pout. Ugh.|