When talking about weight loss…I often hear people talk about getting down to their original weight. That is not a realistic goal for me, after all my original weight was 9 pounds, 13 ounces.
My weight loss goal involves fitting into clothes that I still have in my closet. I don’t ever think I will be as thin as the day I was married, but I would like to maintain a waist that is not described as a bakery item (muffin top) and thighs that would not be mistaken for Easter dinner (spiral cut ham). Weight loss is personal and the only person I judge in this category is me.
If I am being candid, I do not watch what I eat, because I tend to metaphorically close my eyes to the food that passes my lips. It is only when I am getting dressed or trying on clothes in the fitting room that I receive a message loud and clear.
So in the spirit of attempting to maintain a shapely figure other than that of a pear…I begin my exercise journey. Don’t worry I will not be travelling farther than my
garage fitness room.
Last fall, the Hubster started running, he set a goal to run in the Turkey Trot and he did it and he hasn’t stopped. I quickly jumped on board or should say treadmill…I was running and this is what I thought I looked like…
Sadly, the above look was not the norm…and I determined that I would not have a smokin’ hot body again until I am cremated…I am not in a rush for that activity.
I was bored out of my mind and I was left with severe hip pain after about 1 month of this somewhat daily routine. Around the time of my birthday in December, our friends Rick and Tatiana, physical therapists, told me to stop running on the treadmill because of the pain. I was doing more harm than good. I always follow doctor’s orders so I stopped. I began looking for alternate forms of exercise…
If my mascara ran..that counted as exercise.
If I accessorized an outfit …I pretended I exercised….the two words sound about the same.
started continued wearing yoga pants and sneakers to run Saturday errands….made others think I exercised.
Unfortunately this fooled no one…especially not my clothes. You could hear the waist line in my pants and skirts screaming, “We are going to have a blow out!”
Last weekend , while we were away we worked out in the fitness room of the hotel. I did live to tell about it here, but unfortunately that one workout did not make me slimmer. When we went to the outlets and I tried on clothes, my regular size was quite snug (snug sounds cuter than tight). There was no mistaking the fact that I must start moving and not just a stroll to the refrigerator. I can daydream all I want about losing weight, but if I am interrupted only by the sound of my own chewing it will not get me back into my clothes and forget about that Slender-line swimsuit from Lands Ends. The Lycra in that suit has only so much give before an explosive
Hazfat Hazmat situation takes place.
As of yesterday, we have added another piece of equipment to our fancy
garage fitness room. This item was Rick and Tatiana approved; it is so nice to have physical therapists for friends.
I completed a workout Sunday and so far I am still not slimmer; my yoga pants did not complain, but when I put on one of my stunning teacher outfits that may be a different story.