Thursday, October 14, 2010


Isn't it a nice thought that your butt that has made a permanent impression in the left couch cushion may one day get up and do some real exercise. Not just the daily movements that you convince yourself is exercise. You know when you think "well I have been chasing my kids around all day, and I did have to walk up and down the stairs to the apartment twice today so I'm sure that burned at least 200 calories". Well I don't know why I tell myself that when I want to feel better about not feeling better, but I do. And it never works. As much as I try to trick myself into thinking I can lose weight by eating one less oreo and only two pieces of bacon (instead of half of the pack!) I just can't. When I was twenty one I could go a week without soda, and by only doing that Id lose five pounds. Now If I tried that I guarantee Id gain at least three.
Today I didnt get out of my pjs until around three in the afternoon. Now before you jump to conclusions and start judging me, (because in my mind everyone is secretly judging me) It doesnt happen that often that I leave my pajamas on all day, and if I want I can, so there. But on the other hand, I really dont want to get into a routine of not getting dressed. I made that mistake when Manny was a newborn, and I slowly started to realize that the less I get dressed the more pimples I get on my face. I dont really know what the correlation is, but somehow they're related.
I have been finding it hard to motivate myself to get into shape recently. I do all the things youre supposed to when you want to lose weight and become a healthier person. I bought a workout video, new workout clothes and shoes and made sure I had enough time in my schedule to make it work. So whats the problem?? Well the alarm! Off it goes at six and I swear the only thing I can do is tell myself that five more minutes wont make a difference in the amount of time it takes to work out, shower, dress, get the kids dressed, and make it out the door. Then I wake up again at seven thirty panicking and repeating the mantra "shit, shit shit". I know the cursing is bad, but it does help when you need an outlet for your mental state of panic. So it goes, for about six months, occasionally working out and buying a power bar once a month for breakfast, before deciding that it just wasn't the right program for me after all. Oh look, the YMCA is offering yoga classes for only 30 bucks a session!!

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