My First Day
Ugh. That’s my word for today. Ugh.
I took full advantage of this past weekend knowing Monday (today) would be a day to dread. I should change my attitude and make this whole diet/exercise thing a very positive one. But why lie? I hate working out. I hate being disciplined and I hate limiting myself from all the sinful joys I’ve grown to supremely love.
In other words, I fully embrace my Hedonistic religion.
So I sit here, hung-over from last nights Baskin Robbins and pizza, typing my first journal entry of my new life, and worry about my ability to commit to this plan. After all, it is my 4,338 thousandth attempt. But, alas, I am down to my last two pair of pants that don’t cut off the circulation between my upper and lower torso and just days away from living in sweats full time. You’d think I’d be thrilled…
So I set my alarm for 5am and was optimistic that I would actually arise at this hour. And I did. So far, so good. (Surprisingly, I had a harder time getting Kevin up. He’s such an avid worker outer too. Sicko.)
I put on my sweats, sneaks, jog bra and large t-shirt to hide excess fat from said jog bra. I think my sweats just groaned too. They’re used to covering fat, not melting it.
The only one excited here is Kody and now, Kevin. (Sickos)
5:15 am…out the door.
I like to walk first. One must warm up and not over-strain the once sedentary body. My goal is to do 3 laps around the park; but, already I’m wondering if maybe I should just do two. Again: Not a good idea to over-strain. It’s about a 5 minute walk to the park and there’s never anybody there which is always good. I don’t like lots of people to see how much pain I’m in. I mean, is jogging/running not just the WORST sport ever? (I apologize in advance if I’ve insulted those that love it) Your poor little feet have to bear the brunt of your entire body over and over and over and over. It hurts to breathe. Where’s that zone everyone talks about? You know; where you supposedly feel really high?
That’s where I want to be from warm up to cool down…
I pick up the pace to a slow jog. More like a wog. This is a good pace because I barely lift my feet. It’s like a bouncy walk. Yes, yes…a bouncy walk; so, actually I’m balking not wogging. Certainly not jogging or running. Ugh. I’m two minutes in to my balk and things are starting to itch. My butt. My thighs. My bikini line. My back fat. My back fat? Oh my God, yes…I can feel the fat in my back. In fact, I can feel fat in places I didn’t know fat cells could survive. My breath is labored, my lungs are hurting. I hear things cracking; even Kody’s leash is becoming burdensome.
“Good for her!” is what people are thinking as you run by them…Good for that fat girl for getting out and trying to lose that weight…f*** off.
But I plug on because at 39 years old I have no choice. I’ve been promising my self for the last 8 years I’d lose these last few pounds (few, as in 20). This is my year. What a great way to ring in 40 – thin, toned and younger looking.
One lap: done. Things still itching, breathing not as painful. Kody becoming a bit more irritating. Kevin able to carry on conversation, me able to grunt responses.
Two laps: done. One more…wow, only one more. We’re 2/3rd’s of the way done. Kody’s cuter, Kevins more charming, can’t feel breath…still itchy and don’t care who sees my hands down my pants.
Three laps…I did 3 laps and I didn’t die!! And even better? I now have the whole day in front of me without that daunting thought of ‘Ugh…I need to work out…’ because I already did. Wow…not bad.
One day down, 59 more to go…
I took full advantage of this past weekend knowing Monday (today) would be a day to dread. I should change my attitude and make this whole diet/exercise thing a very positive one. But why lie? I hate working out. I hate being disciplined and I hate limiting myself from all the sinful joys I’ve grown to supremely love.
In other words, I fully embrace my Hedonistic religion.
So I sit here, hung-over from last nights Baskin Robbins and pizza, typing my first journal entry of my new life, and worry about my ability to commit to this plan. After all, it is my 4,338 thousandth attempt. But, alas, I am down to my last two pair of pants that don’t cut off the circulation between my upper and lower torso and just days away from living in sweats full time. You’d think I’d be thrilled…
So I set my alarm for 5am and was optimistic that I would actually arise at this hour. And I did. So far, so good. (Surprisingly, I had a harder time getting Kevin up. He’s such an avid worker outer too. Sicko.)
I put on my sweats, sneaks, jog bra and large t-shirt to hide excess fat from said jog bra. I think my sweats just groaned too. They’re used to covering fat, not melting it.
The only one excited here is Kody and now, Kevin. (Sickos)
5:15 am…out the door.
I like to walk first. One must warm up and not over-strain the once sedentary body. My goal is to do 3 laps around the park; but, already I’m wondering if maybe I should just do two. Again: Not a good idea to over-strain. It’s about a 5 minute walk to the park and there’s never anybody there which is always good. I don’t like lots of people to see how much pain I’m in. I mean, is jogging/running not just the WORST sport ever? (I apologize in advance if I’ve insulted those that love it) Your poor little feet have to bear the brunt of your entire body over and over and over and over. It hurts to breathe. Where’s that zone everyone talks about? You know; where you supposedly feel really high?
That’s where I want to be from warm up to cool down…
I pick up the pace to a slow jog. More like a wog. This is a good pace because I barely lift my feet. It’s like a bouncy walk. Yes, yes…a bouncy walk; so, actually I’m balking not wogging. Certainly not jogging or running. Ugh. I’m two minutes in to my balk and things are starting to itch. My butt. My thighs. My bikini line. My back fat. My back fat? Oh my God, yes…I can feel the fat in my back. In fact, I can feel fat in places I didn’t know fat cells could survive. My breath is labored, my lungs are hurting. I hear things cracking; even Kody’s leash is becoming burdensome.
“Good for her!” is what people are thinking as you run by them…Good for that fat girl for getting out and trying to lose that weight…f*** off.
But I plug on because at 39 years old I have no choice. I’ve been promising my self for the last 8 years I’d lose these last few pounds (few, as in 20). This is my year. What a great way to ring in 40 – thin, toned and younger looking.
One lap: done. Things still itching, breathing not as painful. Kody becoming a bit more irritating. Kevin able to carry on conversation, me able to grunt responses.
Two laps: done. One more…wow, only one more. We’re 2/3rd’s of the way done. Kody’s cuter, Kevins more charming, can’t feel breath…still itchy and don’t care who sees my hands down my pants.
Three laps…I did 3 laps and I didn’t die!! And even better? I now have the whole day in front of me without that daunting thought of ‘Ugh…I need to work out…’ because I already did. Wow…not bad.
One day down, 59 more to go…
posted by Tanya Kristine at 10:59 AM
17 Comments:
Mmm...condiments and chips.
oh shit...you mean NO condiments and chips.
this is gonna be hard.
but thanks Bahee, motivational words are always the best. and you look great too by the way...
Don't run to much at first...if you do you'll think you have to run that much every day and you know that any little excuse to not go out will keep you home. Plus you may get to sore and that will keep you off track too. Running is a hard way to knock off weight, you have to run consistently for several months. I like what Bahee said...lots of water...with Celtic Salt!
Wow...maybe YOU can inspire ME to get off my fat duff and do something. You go girl!
Thanks for the comments...its nice that someone else truly understands how I feel...its not something you an explain to someone ....you jsut have to know. And ..you do.
Kisses
I wanna link you....ok?
okay? OKAY!?? Of COURSE it's okay.
I love to be linked. I think i'll get a tshirt that says that.
can i link you too?
i hiked 6 miles this weekend.
3 uphill and 3 down hill.
my ass hurts so bad, i could hardly walk up the stairs at work!
atta girl Tabitha!!!
where'd you go? I did the really big falls up there? that sucked! (gorgeous but major switchbacks and straight up hill)
Two things you need my friend.
Cardio + some weight resistance.
The running for the calorie burning and the weight resistance will replace fat with lean muscle mass, which in turn takes more calories to maintain, which in turn increases your matabolism.
No crazy diets, the right combination of the above works.
You know me Tanya, run at lunch time and gym in the evening. But I do love it because it is my safety valve. The world can be a jacked up place and it helps me deal with it. That is one of my motivational reasons for working out.
The other is more serious.
In my family, if you do not excerise you end up with high blood pressure and all sorts of other nasty things.
My dad had a bad back and could not work out. He suffered from many elements from being well overweight. He took a nap one day and did not wake up. A blocked artery did him in while he slept and my mom found him.
I am not going down like that.
And I know he would not want me to.
So Tanya...so whatever it may be....find your motivation.
It has to come from within. What others think of you does not matter a damn bit. You do it for yourself and no one else.
Good luck my friend. I know you can do anything.
Hooray for you!
Let me tell you the small bags of reduced fat cape cod ships and hoodsies have saved my life during my "eating to loose weight" phase.
Yes, I agree lots of water, it makes you feel fuller.
part of the hike was the "great big falls" aka mulnomah falls but that was just the first mile of it . . . it really was a beautiful hike and if i hadn't been so dumb and not checked my camera, i would have known to bring extra film rather than getting to the end of my roll after 2 pics. OR i should just buy a digital camera . . . hmmm, something to ask my mother-in-law for . . .
also, i hate Hate HATE it when i am in a situation where i have to work out or exercise or get sweaty in front of other people. no one should look at me. that's why i don't like the gym.
i like my attic with my hand weights, yoga mat and jumprope.
and no windows.
were we seperated at birth?
You are so inspirational. My boyfriend and I are going to get a YMCA membership when we return form our Arizona desert vacation in a couple weeks. (Arizona in June you ask? Let's just say I didn't make the travel plans, but I could use any excuse to get away from work. 'Nuff said). I hate doing things like running, mostly because it has become physiologically impossible for me to do so without blowing a knee out or something at this point. So, here I come ballroom dance, water aerobics, yoga and my good friend the elliptical trainer. 13 days till the slim-down crack down begins. Wish us luck!
I think that's awesome Shananigans...I love Yoga; i'm just not patient nor strong and yoga requires both. What's cool about the blog is you're sort of responsible to stay faithful. How lame to go off a plan and prove how hard it is...i'm determined to stay until i reach my goal and then i can be more lax. I had no problem getting to this point so I'll make it no problem going the other way.
course if i fail i'll just paste my head on another's body..heh..heh...
perhaps . . . but if we were separated at birth either you are younger than you think or i am older than i was told i was . . . is that possible?
anythings possible, mi hermana...
i'm adding a comment to change my "poopies" to 20.
...ah that's better.
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