Maybe Not an Epic Fail, but Definitely Wiggity Wack

          Epic.    Fail.
 I'll go ahead and bite off the words and choke them down... Let them marinade like a bitter tonic. The truth is staring me brazenly in the face. The scale does not lie. That harsh and impudent number shamelessly blinking back at me from under my feet offends my sensabilites.

It has been a while since I've posted any updates regarding my mission to trim down. I dont want to beat a dead horse, or consume my writing with petty concerns.There are many more important things to talk about.  But lets face it, its a legitemate concern at the moment. And of all the things that I am or am not, I do try to be honest and real. Good, bad, ugly, or otherwise. So in the spirit of keeping it real, I do hereby swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. (just dont ask me about the Red Robin whiskey river bbq chicken sandwich. One instance where the truth isnt good for anyone)

 I think last time we checked in I miraculously lost 5 pounds in one week. And then I lost 1 more gimpy pound over two weeks. And now, almost a whole month later? NO MAS. Not one more pound. I am...disappointed. And only a little bit indignant. It never used to be this hard!? Is this a sign of aging?  I used to get away with cutting corners. But those days are over for me. As I mentioned here, YOU'VE GOTTA DO THE WORK!  Its simple math, really. Calories in. Calories out. Its not rocket science! Its not hard, its just...HARD.

Hard, yes. Impossible, no. I have done it before, I'll do it again. Well, I AM doing it. Six pounds is...considerable! (Can you tell by all the exclamation points that Im really trying to rally, here?)  Its progress. Its halfway. The element of panic I feel is due to the fact that time is running out. Summer has arrived. Its here. No more rainchecks (pun intended). Vacation is less than 6 weeks away. I thought I'd be done by now! Not floundering around like a whale out of water at the midway point!

I need to get my head back in the game. I need to change it up. I also need to stay positive. While it felt like it for a moment there on the scale, this is not an epic fail. I AM losing weight! Just a lot slower than Im accustomed to. I need to remember that its a process that happens one decision at a time. One healthy choice after another... after another... after another. Patience has never been my strong suit.

Maybe I should take up running again. I have a track literally on the other side of my backyard. Maybe I just need to get out in the fresh air and hit the track, leaving a trail of fervent effort in my wake. I feel like Im in a P90X rut. Its sunny and beautiful outside, and it just feels wrong to be excersizing indoors in a stuffy little area. Like a hamster in a wheel.  I am genuinely missing my gym membership right about now- a day I never thought I'd see! Spinning classes were my favorite way to work out. It was actually fun and I really enjoyed the element of fellow spinners. It was also brutal.  I mean, you know you're working hard when you're WRISTS are sweating, right? But spinning is not an option at the moment. Boo friggity hoo. Its time to improvise. Time to rally. My goal is still within reach- I have long arms. (I actually do. My brother in law used to call me Inspector Gadget because it took me a while to grow into my arms. Im happy to report that my limbs are all fairly dimentional these days. Ankles excluded.)

So that's the truth. I am disappointed, a teeny weeny bit panicked, and (foolishly) indignant. But I cannot claim to be confused. I know exactly why its taking so long. Its my own doing. Have I skipped workouts? A few. Have I cheated with the food? *Cough* What whiskey river bbq chicken sandwhich? Fries? What?! Chipotle? Me? (In my defense, I will say that Chipotle is bar none the best burrito I've ever tasted. So whenever passing through a town that boasts this delicious treat, I cannot pass it up. Cannot. That discussion is off the table.) LOL. But that's life. And its ok. As long as Im a good little soldier and fall back in line. Im making progress. Im halfway to my goal! I think at the halfway point there should be little mile markers. Or some kind of little signs that say "Discipline!" "Self Control!" "PS: You are doing this because you WANT to, and not because you have to! So shut up and quit your belly-aching." "PSS: Good job" "PPSS: Keep up the good work!"... I would find that helpful.

In conclusion, my goals for the next month are:
 1) Chin up and stay positive.
 2) Hit it harder with the workouts.
 3) More water
 4) Eat breakfast! Every day! (I know, I should've been doing that a loooong time ago)
 5) Eat something small and healthy every few hours.
 6) Keep perspective. This is something Im trying to improve and that's all it is. Be thankful for what I've got. Which is considerable. Health, Family, Basic necessities. More than a lot of people in the world. Make that double thankful.

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.

Ok So I Lied!

But not intentionally! A while back  (now, now, there's no need to document HOW FAR back) I said I was going to re-start P90X... Turns out I lied.
Ewe. I hate how this already is shaping up to sound like one big procrastinating "fail"! I ..."WAS going to..." "RE-start"?... Gag. I swear Im not this person. I will say this, in my defense: I had good reasons! Legitimate reasons! Health reasons. Holiday reasons. Packing and moving reasons. This is starting to sound like a lot of reasons.
So now we are moved, settled, healthy, and I am fresh out of good reasons to put it off any longer. So its really true. (Drumroll please!) On Monday, THIS Monday, I am re-starting P90X. There, I've said it. Now I have to do it. The very same reason why I avoid new years resolutions. All that accountability, the public scrutiny, the misplaced pressure! But this time Im embracing it, which is actually quite contrary to my usual habit. Historically speaking, its a telling sign if I've quit TALKING about doing something, because that is about the exact time that I actually DO the thing. Especially in the health and fitness department. "Im going to eat healthier", "Im going to run ten miles", "Im going to quit drinking soda", "blah blah blah". No one cares! No one really ever wants to hear any of this nonsense. Except maybe a sister or a best freind or someone of that nature. Other than that, Im guessing that its better to just shut up and do it already and quit carrying on about it. So I will, and I am, and I'll let you know how it goes.
I do have a small ammendment to make: I am not entirely against New Year's Resolutions. Im all for reflecting, taking stock, and setting personal goals. I actually have a lot of goals. I want to have more GUMPTION! More courage, more spunk, more GUTS. I want to be more GRACIOUS. And those are just the G's!  Back during the holiday frenzy, I had made it my "December personal goal" that if I must err, to always err on the side of graciousness. I've decided that was a good one, and Im going to keep it at the top of the list for-  well, for forever.  I think its more the element of choosing January 1st to be a Refresh button that doesnt jive with me. If I really wanted to do something, or not do something, or make some emphatic change, I would just do it, regardless of the date on the calendar. But I suppose its as good of a time as any-  and hey, who am I to talk anyway? Here I am,  implementing my big P90X plan on January 24th. LOL. Maybe I just resist January 1st because I really am a procrastinator? Hmm.  Im sure I can trust you to put that one in the vault...

Mojo

Tomorrow night I am re-starting P90X. I am filled with equal parts excitement and dread. Goodbye lovely evenings spent cozying up next to my husband, reading books, watching tv, ushering in the only relaxing part of my day with glee (the emotion, not the show)(I do sometimes watch though). And its Hello again yoga pants, red sweaty face, and nearly throwing up in my own mouth from exertion. Haha, come to think of it, of course it would be my own mouth. Anyone else's mouth would just be unconscionable.
I have taken a small sabbatical from my workout regime due to sickness, and then extended it due to self indulgence. And I have enjoyed it thoroughly. Ah, but its time to shake off the dust. You see, Im in the danger zone. That vortex of a place where I am ALMOST where I want my body to be, but not quite there. Close enough to taste, but also far enough away from the wretchedness I felt after gaining 50 lbs, having a C-section and getting completely demoralized by the body I inherited after giving birth to our second child. Far enough away to get comfortable and forget how much I hated the way I felt. And to all of you out there who will say to me "But dont you feel strong? Dont you think you should wear the stretch marks/soft edges/ what-have-you,  as a badge of honor and be proud and blah blah blah"....to all of you I say, Yes, and No. Yes I am surprised/proud of what my body is capable of doing. It has carried, protected, delivered, and nourished  two children. Is that a feat? Heck yah it is! Am I pleased with the physical aftermath? No way. Do I accept it as part of the deal? Yes. Would I trade my kids for the lithe, speedily metabolized body I used to call my own? Of course not. Do I still want to complete the process of  getting myself back?! YES!
I dont know about the rest of the women in the world, but for me, I know its definitely a process. I was not one of those basketball-under-the-shirt looking pregnant women, that I thought for sure I would be. I always do great until about the 7th month. I dont gain much weight, I feel all glowy and jolly and think Im going to skate by unscathed to the very end. And then it happens. I explode. It happens so fast it boggles the mind. I wound up gaining between 40-50 lbs with both pregnancies and the bulk of it happened in the last 3 months.Yikes. But Im getting bogged down in the details. You dont care about the details. The point is, I have realized that I personally, tend to lose myself a tiny bit somewhere along the way with having babies. Colicky babies. And its a process to get myself back. Physically, mentally, all of the above. I got through the 6 months of colic hell. Then, when the clouds parted, and I quit functioning in survival mode, I found the drive to lose the 50 lbs of baby weight. Now, its been a whole year, and I want to do myself a solid and just finish it already. I want to be fit, and not just thin.
I think I have a healthy, realistic grasp on the whole thing and I dont have crazy goals. I know I cant eat whatever in the world I want and not work out, like I could ten years ago, and still be thrilled with the outcome. Its like every other area of life- YOU'VE GOTTA DO THE WORK! Physically, spiritually, relationally, (is that a word?)...you cant just quit putting forth the effort and then turn around and expect to be thrilled with the results. Dont be shocked when whatever it is, isnt thriving.
SO, I am going to shake the dust off my workout shoes, Im going overlook the cheeseball factor of Tony whatever-his-last-name's insistance that I always "bring it" in the workout dvd's, and Im going to rally my husband's joint effort as we make working out a regular part of  life once again.
As I said, I am filled with equal parts excitment and dread regarding this. Dread, because I know how hard and grueling the workouts are. And I am not exactly Sporty Spice, so this does not appeal to me. Excitement, because I know it works. And because, I know it sounds wierd, but I actually feel sexy when I work out. Im slightly embarrassed for having used that word, and I hope its not inappropriate, but I sat for 5 minutes trying to think of an alternative and could not. I am fully convinced I do not LOOK sexy working out, so it has nothing to do with vanity. Not by a long shot.  But there is something about putting a great song on your itunes, shutting everything else out, and just going for it. Pushing yourself, and working your hardest. It does something for your mojo. Just sayin!
So wish me luck!