Too Legit to Quit



I must confess, I think I'm a pusher.

Whenever I find a product I love, I always tell my friends about it. "Have you tried this recipe?" "Have you heard this song?" "Have you felt how smooth this lipstick is?"...I'm one of those. 

Hey, I'm just trying to help a sister out!  So naturally I HAVE to tell you about the Jillian Michaels ab DVD I have discovered. It's quick and effective and I am kind of obsessed.

 

 I'll stop here to throw out a spoiler alert for all my male readers- This is when the proverbial "girl-out" starts. If this were a slumber party, right now would be the portion in between the pillow fights and fingernail painting- you know, the part where we sit around and ask each other how much we weigh. (Because evidently that's what guys think we do?)

 

Who knew? After thousands of dollars and countless months spent at the gym, that THIS

 

  would be the best $10 I ever spent?

 Just looking at this picture strikes fear in my bones. I have tasted her pain, and yet I keep coming back for more. After watching her scream at contestants on the Biggest Loser for years, I always assumed I was more of a "Bob" than a "Jillian" type of person in the gym. Be kind, that's all I want. Be gentle with me! But as they say, "You've got to be cruel to be kind."... Yes?

 

 I've made no secret about the fact that I've been slowly trying to claw my way back from a physical low point over the last few years. We talked about it HERE and HERE and HERE... and then I shut my mouth about it because generally I subscribe to the idea that no one really WANTS to hear you talk about your weight. It starts to sound obnoxious after a while. But I'm also a person who believes in keeping it real, and since I've so liberally shared all my defeats along the way, it seems only fitting to share the triumphs as well.

 

I've tried many different workout programs and DVD's over the years, (Winsor Pilates, P90X, etc) and my issue with all of them is this: NOBODY HAS TIME FOR THIS NONSENSE!

 As a mom who has two tinies who are at home with me %70 of the time, it's simply not realistic for me to spend 60-90 minutes rolling around on the ground sweating it out while my children whine at me, correct my form, beg for snacks, or try to "join" me in my efforts, thus directly thwarting my efforts. I know this because I have tried. It seems that unless I'm willing to get up at 5 am and work out before my kids wake up, (and let's all be real here- I'm not) it's pretty much a waste of time.

 

 So for years I have gone to the gym instead, which works well for us. They get to play in the kiddie area, I workout and have a smidge of time to myself,  and we all get out of the house- win/win/win!

  Other than a couple seasons off to tend to the minor business of growing and birthing humans, I've been pretty faithful at working out.

 

 But regardless of my continual efforts at the gym, I have been unsuccessful in reaching my goals. Or partially successful at best. And let's face it, after having two babies, one C section, and gaining and losing a total of 100 pounds (Yes. I said it) between both of them- I have my work cut out for me. Even after managing to lose the 50 lbs after my last baby, at my lowest weight, I was never strong. I had no muscle tone. I just managed to get thin enough so that all my soft bits didn't fold over onto each other.

 It's a good trick but it's a far cry from being truly fit. And it didn't last. As soon as I started to ease up on my diet and cardio, the pounds started slowly and inexorably taking up residence everywhere between my neck and my knees. Okay fine, my ankles too.

 

I think a big part of my problem has been that I tend to master one or maybe two major elements of health and fitness at a time, but I've never quite gotten a handle on doing it all at once. I have focused too much on cardio and almost completely neglected strength training over the years. In regards to my diet I  have yo-yo'd between utter vigilance and throwing caution to the wind.

 

 While Jillian's reputation garners both fear and respect in equal measure,  the woman knows how to get results. I will say that. Her workouts are legitimate. I decided on a whim one day to buy a couple of her workout DVD's, figuring that if I hated it, it's only $10, and if I loved it then all the better.

 

I have LOVED them. 

Specifically her 6 Week 6 Pack DVD. I committed to myself that I'd give it a real go. Why not?

 So for 6 weeks I worked out 5-6 days a week and ate very clean (very little carbs, sugar, or dairy, and lots of veg and lean protein every few hours).  In 8 weeks with Jillian I have lost 10 pounds and almost two pant sizes! It works! My God, it really works!

 

 Before it starts to sound like I'm tooting my own horn here, let me clarify that I still have a long way to go. I am barely over halfway to my fitness goal. There is still much work to be done. But I am so excited to actually be seeing results. The best motivation is seeing your body start to change.

For maybe the first time in my adult life, I am starting to see muscles in my arms, stomach, legs, and butt. Like, actually SEE them!

Here's why I love her all of her DVD's and this DVD in particular.

1. It's quick and effective. Her workouts range from 25-45 minutes. Which is perfect because a half hour is about the longest I can keep my kids preoccupied.
2.  It's SIMPLE! You don't need any weird bands or equipment. A small hand weight and room to move are all you need.
3. It's just hard enough that you feel accomplished, but not so hard that you dread doing it. Each DVD has multiple levels of difficulty as well- so just when you start to get comfortable (or adequate) she kicks it up a notch.
4. It's cheap!
5. It WORKS. She uses HIIT (high intensity interval training) to help burn fat while building muscle. Double duty. Boom. 

I'm not saying it's magic, and I'm not saying it's the best thing out there. Just another tool to add to the toolbox. Just wanted to share my experience in case any of my comrades out there are looking for something quick and doable.

 I'm finally learning that I can't take any shortcuts. I have to eat clean AND do cardio AND do strength training to get where I want to be. Once I finish losing the weight I think maintaining is a whole different story. But to lose weight I just can't get away with any funny business.(Blurg.)

I still give myself a couple cheats a week, otherwise my head would explode. And my morning coffee with creamer is non-negotiable. Off the table.

 But I've got to say, as much as I miss my pastas and cheeses for now, if it spares me from feeling like a gelatinous busted can of biscuits, maybe it's worth it.



For Realsies

  Well, there's nothing like a little incentive to get a lady dragging her butt out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5:45 am to sweat and pseudo-curse her way through another one of Tony Horton's stupid dumb P90X workouts. And by "stupid dumb" I mean "effective and necessary". It works. It does work. But oh, I hate it. I REALLY hate it the first week. By week 3 I've usually found my stride and actually look forward to my workouts as a little golden nugget of alone time. Ah, the life of a mom, yes? Always mutlitasking. As if its not a complete oxymoron to count the 1.25 hours I spend leaving blood, sweat, and tears on my living room floor (ok fine, not blood) as my sacred "peace and quiet" time as well, then I dont know what is.

  But its the way it goes. I have tried doing the workouts at different points in the day, all to no avail. Both of my children find it much too fascinating to watch me crucify myself trying to keep up with these...these FREAKS OF NATURE on the dvd's, to mind their own business. Bigger One tries to do it with me (and corrects my form more than I'd prefer) while Littler One sits on me or throws his football at my face while I try to do sit ups. They are all innocence and good intentions, but needless to say, there are a lot of distractions and not a lot of floor space. So that leaves me with naptime. The only problem there, is that Bigger One's naps have gotten shorter and shorter and are nigh on extinction these days. Im trying to milk one more year out of naptime. Plus I like to grab that 30-45 minutes to read a little of my favorite book (Outlander series, since you ask. Read it. Do it. Think danger+history+love+war+sex+ suspence+ James Fraser. Nuff said) Ah, but I digress. Oh yes. Or I use that time to start cooking dinner, or to pick up, or to just sit in a quiet room all by myself. Which is lovely to do every once in a while.

  So there have been bumps in the road. I have missed workouts, or abandoned workouts halfway through because there is just too much going on in the house. I have been sick again and missed two whole weeks altogether.I have been stressed. And to add insult to injury, I tend to gain weight when I am stressed out. I have eaten a lot of....well...everything. I am a person to loves good food. I love to cook it and I love to eat it. I am the type who works out to eat. Its not the sort of thing you're supposed to admit, but its true. If I work out, I can ALMOST eat whatever I want. Within reason. If I dont work out, well...there's always that trusty old 5-7 (or in this case more) pounds that likes to take up residence on my hindquarters.

  Its time to call a spade, a spade. I let the ball drop. Blurg. I've been half-assing my workouts and making bad food choices- a combo I can no longer get away with. So this morning I decided it was time to scare myself straight on the scale. I stepped on (always before breakfast and naked, mind. As if that really helps), and gingerly opened one eye with trepidation to look down at the number. And then I jumped off of it like it was covered in burning coals. Step back on. Try again. Its that same obnoxious number. "WHAT THE WHAT?! How did this happen so fast?" Its bad, people. Its real bad. Its worse than I thought. I have gained a whopping ten pounds. This sucks. All the nice people in the world will say that muscle weighs more than fat and working out could account for that. I say- hogwash. I know its not all muscle. Its not ten pounds of new, sinewy, lean muscle. Its maybe 4 pounds of muscle (if Im being generous. And I am.) and 6 pounds of fat. That's like a sack of potatoes! The number on the scale this morning (of which we will never speak of) was a proverbial smack in the face. A wake up call. Consider me scared straight.

  I dont even normally write about this kind of stuff because I generally subscribe to the idea that most people dont really care, and even if they do, they maybe dont want to hear about it- it tends to sound obnoxious. And I DEFINITELY dont know why I only write about it when Im sucking at it. But for the sake of comraderie, the intent of getting back on track, and in the hopes of a little encouragement, Im calling myself out on the carpet. Literally.

  I mentioned incentive earlier. I do have that! In four months, I will be relaxing on the beach in the Bahamas with Husband, and I want to FEEL GOOD. Not chubby. So if it means I have to stock up on things like quinoa, fruit & veggies, egg whites, those silly little paper thin sandwich "rolls" (Pshaw! Rolls. Hardly.)  and enough salad to choke a horse, so be it. If I have to take it easy on the pasta for a month or two I could maybe even agree to that. I could EVEN workout early in the morning or late at night. Because its worth it to feel fit. As I've said before (here), it just does something for your mojo. I know what it feels like to be happy and comfortable in my own skin, and I know what it feels like to be pitifully off my game. I much prefer happy and comfortable.  So Im not going to make any outlandish proclamations about losing all ten pounds in five minutes. Im not going to cut corners. Im just going to get right back on track. And Im really going to try to stay positive and not assume its a drag to eat healthy. So if any of you have any fabulous healthy recipes, do share. Here goes. For realsies.

I Think Ace Ventura Put it Best When He Said "Find a Happy Place!"

Its all fun and games until one of them starts flinging poo. Oh yes. Welcome to my day. Come join me. Bask with me in the mayhem. "Give in to the power of the tea" if you will. (bonus points for readers who can name that movie). (Actually, double bonus points. Because Name That Movie is my favorite game ever. Second only to "Remember When...")

I think I felt it coming before I even opened my eyes this morning. Trouble. As if the only word I could clearly see forming on the foggy horizon of my brain was already going to be "BLURG".  Do you ever wake up so early that you feel nauseous? Like your body is so tired its literally rejecting wakefulness? Happens to me all the time. I think this might be part of why I hate breakfast so much. Its the only time of day you will catch me wishing for sleep over food.

I think I had a bad dream too. I've been reading a lot lately and both the books Im reading melded into one bizarre dream involving a heap of dead wolves with yellow eyes, (shudder), a rugged Scotsman (yes please),  and a troubling impression that I was grinding my teeth into gravel inside my own head (I actually do grind my teeth so this wasnt too far off). Suffice it to say, that I had a furrow in my brow before I even made it off of my pillow this morning. Both of my little darlings seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed as well, because before breakfast was over, there were two altercations between siblings,  one spill, followed by tears, followed by whining, followed by me snapping at my daughter over her highly dramatic display. Dangit. Not even 8:00 yet and I've already lost my cool. Deep breath. Apologize for being snappy, while trying to simultaneously squeeze in a lesson about attitudes of the heart. Only semi succesful in getting point across. She was pretty busy with her Cinnamon Toast Crunch and he just grins blankly at me every time I talk anyways, regardless of what Im saying. (which I secretly love).

And so it went for the next few hours. Rushing to get us all showered, dressed, fed, teeth brushed, hair combed, and out the door.(With no lack of battles over each one of those things)  Drop off at school, run errands, pick up from school, try to keep 1 year old happy and quiet as I try to be productive... Fail. Decide its a good idea to bundle up and head outside in the backyard for some good old fashioned fun. Enjoy approximately 4.5 minutes of delight, playing with my children, blowing and popping bubbles until Littler One spills Bigger One's bubbles. While I console Bigger One over the loss of her new bubbles and remind her to be gracious and forgiving with Littler One, and grab a towel to start mopping up  the sticky mess, I turn around just in time to see it. Littler One. Holding a poop. My dog's poop. Oh dear God.

After I shrieked, scolded Buster the dog (not that it was his fault. Hey, everybody poops), disinfected, scoured, and scrubbed up my son, called it quits with the bubbles, tried to make dinner amid seventeen interruptions regarding snacks, barbie shoes, a half eaten chapstick, and a completely emptied trash can on my kitchen floor, - after  that I decided to give it up.  It was one of those days where everything was harder than I thought it should have been. You know those days you have, as a parent, where you honestly get tired of hearing your own voice? I decided to abandon my efforts (however valiant they may be!) to force my day into something it wasnt going to be. So  I opened a diet Dr. Pepper, allowed myself one hearty eye-roll before I shooshed the "What the what?!" train of thought I felt forming in the back of my head, had a good chuckle, and  acquiesced to the funk. Sometimes ya gotta just let it be. So I took my remaining shreds of peace of mind and my diet Dr. Pepper into my daughters playhouse and let her pretend to be my mommy while Jaxon banged toy pots over my head for 20 minutes. And I daresay that 20 minutes was the highlight of the day for all three of us.