"Mom, why do you have a big butt." said HB.
"Because I'm fat."
After returning home from the holidays I complained to my husband about my size. I've been boarder-line fat/normal for a while now. My size has slowly crept up over the years.
When I graduated from highschool, I was 45 pounds less than I weighed now. I was underweight and got- oddly enough- picked on for it. When I went to college, I started gaining weight which I viewed as a good thing. I did take some health courses which taught me how to take care of myself, but having no accountability partner and no role models from my own morbidly obese family members meant exercise never took. This isn't to say I never did any form of exercise. I was in marching band so for six months out of the year I was obligated to do some sort of exercise. But then I went to grad school...
Over the summer I took up jogging only to end up injuring myself and making excuses not to take it up again. So here I was once again entering January and feeling and beginning to look fat. I contemplated taking up jogging once again, however, my neighborhood has no street lights and any later in the morning I have to contend with the four year old. Jogging with my youngest? Probably not going to work. I've tried to do exercise videos at home in the past and the kids thought that it was a game and tried tackling me at various times. So I've decided not to do those either.
"Why don't you try a gym?" Hubby suggested.
"Yeah, maybe that's my best bet. I'll look into the Y. I know they offer scheduled classes for free if you join. I do so much better with a schedule. They'll also watch Knee while I exercise. Plus they offer swim lessons, which the kids need."
So today I took a small step and took Knee and I to the gym to sign up. It turns out that there's a branch of the Y on the way to my parish and fairly close to the library. So now there's no excuse for me not to visit since it's not far away.
"See this is where you'll go and play while I work out. Look they even have a play ground outside."
"You're going to work out?" asks Knee.
I nod my head, "Yep, I need to get in shape."
I don't think he quite understand what "work out" means because he later brought up that he could do his school work there. But I told him that we do that at home.
So here's the deal. There are classes offered every day. I'm hoping to be in one on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday but if "life happens" my goal is to at least hit the gym itself. On Friday evenings they have rock climbing and I thought I could convince HB to go rock climbing with me (Knee's too young).
My goal is to loose 1-2 pounds a week. I'd like to shed about 15 pounds to get down to a more ideal weight. So somewhere in the neighborhood of 3 to 4 months. That said I realize that 15 pounds is negligible when it becomes muscle. So I'd like to loose a dress size or two if that's the case. So April.
Reward. Apparently this is the part that I keep skipping. I would think being able to fit into my clothes better and having more energy would be it's own reward, but apparently you have to reward yourself regularly to keep motivated. This seems to work well with the kids too, which is why they got good reports from the dentist. All we did was add flossing. Anyways getting back on topic. So I need a weekly reward because I know me if the reward is way off in some big distant future, I will not stick with the goal. I'll have to talk to Hubby, but maybe my reward could be in the form of going to the movies by myself or something along those lines. Seeing a movie a week isn't terrible. My husband was astounded that I used to go to the movies by myself and actually enjoyed it. I guess he doesn't understand that I like to be alone and it's not nearly as creepy as going to the movies by oneself as it seems to go to a fancy restaurant by oneself. So there.
Accountability. Oh, there's that awful thing. I like to say things and then not actually do them. The last time I joined a gym, I went to one thing. After a couple of months, Hubby told me it was a waste of money and that I should just quit. I had no motivation and no accountability (besides Hubby asking me when the last time I went was). But I'm a blogger. Not a very good one, but I'm still a blogger. So I guess regular reports are in order. I fully expect that my blogging buddies will be nice enough to bug me if I don't report, right? Mondays I give a report, yes? You should expect one and if you don't hear one, you will ask me about it yes? Good. Because I know me I'll come up with every excuse in the book to not do something unless it's a habit or an obligation (ask me how many times I've so wanted to not take the kid to school or go to Mass and instead sleep in. way too many.)
Well back to laundry.