20 Years

Twenty years ago if you had asked me where I'd be today, I probably would've told you something like, "Married with children, happy, healthy and satisfied - if I'm lucky". Twenty year old me had no idea that thirty year old me would be here so quickly and that forty year old me would wish so badly that I had done things differently twenty years ago.

So, this is forty.

I have put my body through some pretty terrible things but worst of all has been what I've put in my body. Until I reached a certain point where I could no longer eat that cheeseburger right before bed because of how it made me feel in the morning and pretty much the next three days...I had no idea what I was doing to myself. It's not just about the calories and the fat.  It's about how I feel about myself on the inside.  Sure, nachos and salsa and cheese sounds like an amazingly delicious snack while I'm sitting on the couch with my main squeeze, enjoying the last 30 minutes of the day, no kids, no distractions, just us.  Me and my man. Love those 30 minutes.  The best. We talk a little about our work days, our kids, our upcoming weekend plans, our future.  Sometimes we cuddle and smooch a little. Ok, TMI.  That's our time.  All 30 beautiful minutes. My main squeeze and some amazing nachos. That's my 20 year old mind.  My forty year old mind is telling me that 1. I don't have 30 minutes to sit and do anything. 2. Nachos sounds like a fab idea but not right before bed. I don't want to be on the toilet for 30 minutes in the morning and all that grease will undoubtedly make me feel like a giant blob...not to mention what my main squeeze is probably thinking as I scarf them down.  Oh well...you only live once. I'll worry about it tomorrow. And 3. Who cares. I'm 40. I'll never have my 20 year old body back. You can't rewind time. I do nothing but work, cook, clean and take care of my kids anyway. Who has time to worry about what they eat anyway? People with no kids, no jobs, no lives and no responsibilities. That's who.

Every day I get up (after hitting the snooze button a couple times), shower, get ready for work, take my 2 year old to daycare, work, work, work, come home, cook, clean, play with the kids briefly, help with homework, give the 2 year old a bath, read and/or sing to the 2 year old, put him to bed, eat something absolutely delicious and atrocious and go to bed. This has been the routine for at least the last 2 years. Before my youngest son, it was even worse. I was on my feet a lot less and I ate more crap than I do now. Like an entire bag of microwave buttery popcorn at 10pm. A hand full of spicy cheese-its. Some potato chips with hot sauce. Maybe an entire bag of flaming hot Cheetos. Three or four beers. Who am I kidding? I did that last week...more than once.

Now, I live with a man who has had a 6-day-a-week work out routine for the entire 16 years we've been together. And I'm positive, before 'us' he worked out even harder and more often. When he was promoted at work a couple years ago and his job duties changed from extremely physical 12 hours a day to sitting at a desk 60% of the work day, his work out habits changed as well.  I've been watching and listening to him walk around the house, glaring at himself in the mirror every 15 minutes, complaining about how far he's fallen, frowning at the sight of himself and flip flopping from, "I need to get rid of this flab" to "I need to get back to the heavy weights and bulk up this muscle again" for 2 solid years. At the risk of sounding a little selfish, can I tell you how mad this made me? I have had 3 babies (gigantic babies, I might add), 6 losses in the last 21 years and a hysterectomy before the age of 40. I've never been one to worry about what I eat or if I exercise because I've always been fairly thin.  But for the last three years or so I've absolutely despised my own reflection.  From the wrinkles on my face, the gray hairs on my head, the lack of a single pair of properly fitting jeans, the love handles I never, ever thought I'd have, the absolutely lack of energy to do anything at all, and the fact that I became a grandma 3 times over this year...I just can't even look at myself without wanting to cry. I've never felt so horrible about myself in all my life. It's terrible. How can I feel this way and maintain a healthy, balanced, normal life??? I can't. I simply can't. I'm not happy. And what is making me unhappy...is me.  I absolutely adore my husband. He is my best friend and the sole reason I've managed to maintain my sanity the last 20 years. I love him.  I love everything about him.  But how can I love him so much when I don't know how to love myself any more? Last week, my sanity took a plunge and I realized that I need to make some major changes in my life. I need to make these changes so that I can be a better me, a better wife, a better mom, a better grandma, a better human being.  I want to be around to see all of my babies grow up.  I want to play with my grand babies! I want to see them all into their adult years.  And I don't want to do it from a bed, a wheel chair, behind tears and pain, or from the heavens, God forbid. I don't want them to remember me this way. I want to feel pretty again. I want to feel proud. I want to leave a positive trail, a beautiful legacy. I want to laugh more and cry less.  I don't want to feel the shame I feel any more. And I don't want my kids to see me so sad.  It cuts like a knife when I hear, "are you ok, mom?" It makes me want to curl up in a ball and disappear.  

Last week, my husband, in the most gentle voice he could muster, asked if I would be interested in embarking on this workout journey by his side. He asked if I wanted to help him stay focused. He asked if I was ready to make changes that would help me feel better, inside and out....because I deserve to be happy. How could I say "no" to that?? When he said it like that...I wasn't mad any more. My guilt didn't cut me like a knife. My heart swelled....but not because I thought I was going to keel over and die. For that brief moment...I think I could physically feel something in me changing. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders or something.  I knew what I had to do and more importantly I I knew I could do it. I hadn't lost any motivation to be a better, healthier me.  I always wanted to be better.  I just didn't know where to start or how to do it. And I had no faith in myself. I had no discipline. That night, all I could think about was my ultimate goal. I didn't care how long it was going to take to get there.  I didn't care about giving up my delicious nachos. I didn't care if I had to make sacrifices...like working out in front of people who might think I look a little silly. I just couldn't wait to get started. The next day I contacted my cousin Tiffanie, a Beach Body Coach and someone I had been watching for the last few years as she embarked on her own healthy journey. 

I won't lie. There are days when I'd see Tiffanie's posts on social media and immediately scroll past it.  She is a gorgeous wife and mother who is so lucky to have her amazing husband who takes care of her financially so she can stay home and raise their two absolutely beautiful children.  Jealous? Indeed. But more than that...seeing her so motivated and successful made me feel even more guilt! I wasn't mad at her...who could be? She's amazing!! It was just easier to make excuses for myself by saying things like, "she can afford to stay home with her kids, buy the supplements, workout in her super big house with tons of room, spend ungodly amounts of time (and money) on meal plans that are healthier and more beneficial to her, buy and use the protein shakes, get online and track her workouts and interact with other very fortunate women doing the same thing and still have time and money to have fun, go on date nights with her husband, travel to fun and expensive places and be an amazing mother to those fantastic babies she has. I can't do all that. I have to work and cook and clean and shop for the only groceries I can afford to feed the 4 people under my roof, and wash, dry, fold and put away laundry for 4 people and feed and water the dog, and find time to love and play with my babies and..." Good Grief. No wonder I feel the way I do about myself. This girl....is amazing!!! She is an absolute ray of sunshine, breath of fresh air....and THE most beautiful, full of happiness, inspirational, fitness goddess I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and she's my cousin!!! How sad, angry, depressed, and awful of a person I must be to think so terribly of myself just because she's doing it, and I'm not. My reason for scrolling past Tiff's awesome posts had nothing to do with her and everything to do with how I've felt about me.  When I called her to talk to her about the 21 day fix, the Beach Body program I wanted to start, I was prepared to be positive, listen to everything she had to say, and get this journey started. But the entire Hour and a half or so that I talked to her I kept repeatedly hearing myself being negative, bull headed, strong willed, whatever you want to call it...I was being a jerk. More excuses. More denial. More lack of discipline. She told me about all the things I could benefit from and all the support that was at my fingertips. FREE! She even sent me a free bag of Shakeology after I told her we weren't going to do the Shakeology because of the cost. She really wanted me to try it before I decided that. What a gal! I joined her support group where I could post my progress and read about the other women with similar journeys. I didn't know if I'd have time to do that or if I really wanted to see other women doing better than me.  Because that's how my mind works these days. I just knew if I saw someone else doing the same workout but better, faster, stronger than me...I would lose that motivation and let my lack of discipline control my choices....and I would give up. That was my fear. That I would give up. 

Monday, the day after Easter Sunday I woke up feeling ready for the world! I drank water, ate a banana, even ate a light lunch.  I was expecting my package to arrive Tuesday or Wednesday so I was just going to do P90X with Barry or some Tae Bo or something after work.  Gabe called me early in the afternoon to tell me a package had arrived.  YIPPEE!  Wow, that was fast!! I couldn't wait to get home! I came home and as I prepared dinner I read through all the materials that came with the 21 day fix. I read about the meal plans, the food containers, the workouts, the measurements and tracking, everything. I. Was. Stoked!!

The last few months of my life have been very chaotic in my life.  There have been numerous stressful situations that alone would've been difficult to handle. But the fact that there were multiple situations like that made me feel like I've aged 10 years in 6 months. When my husband came in the door Monday from work I couldn't wait to talk to him about my package arriving and my excitement to get started.  He was going to get his workout in while I prepared dinner so that I could get mine in after. Then life happened again. We started talking about one of these stressful situations I mentioned...and everything went south. My motivation was gone, my heart was hurting, the tears began to flow and I just knew what was happening...I was giving up. Again. I cried all the way through dinner.  An hour and a half and a gallon of tears later, he started his 90 minute workout. I was even more depressed at this point because even if there was a sliver of drive left in me...there would never be enough time or energy to get in an effective work out.  I was convinced it would make more sense to start on Tuesday. I'm not really sure why I allowed our conversation to make me feel so defeated. I think it's just because I've been so weak, emotionally these last few months, that it was easier to give up. I finished dinner and went to hang out with the 2 year old for a while. There's nothing he could do to make me cry, right? Why was I so upset, anyway? We didn't say anything to each other that should've gotten me that upset. It was just the idea that the conversation wasn't going the direction I wanted it to. I was like a whiny 2 year old, not getting her way. I guess sitting on the floor, putting together a track for Thomas the Train with Curious George playing in the background was right where I belonged. After my husband completed his work out he came in to let me know. We were both holding grudges...which we never do.  My heart was aching. I didn't like the way we weren't communicating one bit.  I left the room with the intention of finding something to clean to preoccupy my juvenile, undisciplined mind. As I entered the kitchen I saw the 21 day Fix disk and accompanying documents lying on the kitchen table. There was no way I was letting ME stop me again!! 

I grabbed the disk, stomped out into the living room, prepared my yoga mat and weights, got a glass of water and a towel and popped in the disk. This was around 9:00 pm. About 10 minutes in to the cardio total body workout....I started worrying I wasn't going to make it the next 20 minutes, much less the next 20 days!! How in the hell do these women do this? And smile while they're doing it??? Good grief! Out of shape, old, and beyond help.  That about sums up my thinking right at that moment.  But I persevered. I was sweating pretty good and my legs were already like jello, wobbling and shaking with every bend. I thought I might actually fall right on my face a few times...but to my surprise, I'm a little stronger than I thought! Just a little. The program has a modifier, a slower, beginner type person who is almost always in view so that you can see that not everyone can keep up with the fit little bombshell leading the way. Everyone has to start some where. I kept moving and I made it to the end, in tact, without falling on my face.  This is progress.  I went to bed that night feeling so much better about the events of the evening....even though I was still holding a little bit of a grudge. The next day I was a little sore, as I expected to be after jumping into this workout like I did. I didn't realize how sore until I attempted to climb the stairs at work.  I was literally talking to myself, out loud, all the way up the stairs, "you can do this! this is the good kind of pain! bikini season, sister! power through and own those stairs!" Who knew I was such a great motivational speaker? lol All day I winced in pain when I walked, took the stairs and tried to gracefully sit back in my chair without falling out of it.  What a big baby! All day and night this continued but I held on to my determination and I completed the day 2, 21 day fix routine on Tuesday. Upper body....that I could handle. As long as I didn't have to jump...even once. lol I even drank my Shakeology for breakfast, which is usually my worst meal seeing as how I rarely have more than a cup or two of coffee for breakfast. I was surprised at how much it didn't hurt at first.  And then we had to do push ups...and forearm planks. Holy moly. I've had a bum shoulder for a few years and I was pretty worried I'd have to take it easy but it didn't hurt my shoulder as bad as I'd imagined. So I powered through.  Once again, the modifier was a savior. But I did it.  The whole 30 minutes, weights and all.  Well...lighter weights than what Miss Fancy Pants instructor was using....but weights, nonetheless.  Today, day 3, I'm ready to tackle this workout and it's only noon. So far today I've had to get up every 15 minutes or so from my desk to walk around because if I wait too long, my legs hurt so bad I may just fall on my face after all.  I left to pick up a salad for lunch and wasn't sure I was going to make it down the stairs! Wowza!! There's that good hurt again. I'm sure that the pain will lessen as my muscles grow.  I'm sure. Right, Tiffanie??

I got to thinking last night about my goals here.  My ultimate goal is to lose about 25 lbs and feel better. If I feel better, inside and out, everything else will fall into place.  I won't feel so insecure. I won't feel so worthless. I won't feel so tired and angry. I won't fear not being around long enough to see my children prosper. I won't worry about what kind of legacy I leave behind because I'll KNOW that what I'm doing is good for me and for everyone around me.  This is a lifestyle change. This is something I want to maintain as long as I possibly can....not just for 21 days.  But for well over 21 years. I think I have at least that much time left. I need to change my way of thinking as well as my habits. I am not going to wake up tomorrow and be happy with what I see in a bikini in my mirror...but I'll be happy because I look and feel better. I'll be happy because I'm teaching my kids to care about themselves as much as I do so they don't get to a point (around 40 or so) where they don't like what they see in the mirror. Instead I, and they, can focus their energy and attention on other, more satisfying things in life and just be happy. They won't have to cry. They won't have to feel what I've felt for so long now. No one can take this kind of pain away for me...I have to do it myself. I have to work for it. I have to want it bad enough. And if they ever feel this way...I won't be able to help them. They'll have to want to help themselves. 

I may not be following the meal plan to a T or measuring up to the best of the best just yet...but I'll get there.  I've had a hard time finding the time to prepare the meals because I don't have the right kind of food in my refrigerator yet or the money in my wallet to rectify that just yet.  But I do try to watch what I eat and how much.  I drink a lot of water. I take a vitamin. I try to keep it as healthy as possible. I didn't want to postpone the 21 day fix as I waited for payday to restock my kitchen because I may have lost motivation/discipline in the meantime. SO....this is me. This is 40. This is my plan. I have an open mind and an open heart. I have motivation. I have determination. I have more than enough reasons to want this and to work my hardest for it. I have discipline. I have faith. I will change my life. I will change my children's lives.  And maybe, my story will help you change yours. 

20 years ago I didn't know where I would be today. But here I am.  Making better choices and working on making the next 20 years even better. Join me on my journey or start your own...but don't wait 20 years to be the best you that you can be. 

Love and blessings

Sambo

Here's to setting goals

Oh...hey...remember me, hard work and determination? I'm back!!!

For those of you that know how my life has sort of been turned upside down the last few months, my follow up appointment was last week and I was cleared for normalcy.  Doc said go ahead and get back to life so that's what I'm doing.  For those of you that don't have a clue what I'm talking about, trust me when I say I'm glad to be back! 


I've decided that I'm not only getting back to working out but I'm changing up a few other aspects of my daily life as well.  My goal is to cut the processed food out of my diet and eat better.  I imagine a lot of my hard to lose weight comes from the crap in a box or a can that becomes my dinner or lunch every day.  I thought about trying some diet fad or something but I know myself all too well.  My worst habit by far is coffee.  I dare say I may need a program to ween myself off that java!  It's as bad as a nicotine addiction, for this chick! I also catch myself wanting snacks during the day and I often reach for pretzels, tortilla chips or beef jerky.  Terrible, I know.  I can't afford to do what I want to do about my diet and I'm not quite disciplined enough just yet to start a 'plan' so my hope is to condition myself to eat better. Baby steps.  I also need to change up a few bad habits and routines.  I was thinking every month (or every week) I could have a 'theme'.  That theme would be the focus for the month....like..."no bread".  And I wouldn't eat bread that whole month.  I could do different categories at the same time, too.  Like "laundry"....and I could do at least a load a day. Wait. I already do that. Scratch that.  But I could do "laundry room" and focus on that room for the month whether it's cleaning, organizing, etc. I find that if I give myself goals to reach, no matter how big or small it's easier to stay on task.  If I just say to myself , "I need to do this", it won't get done. But if I write it down and a time line for when I want it done...bingo. So here's to setting goals. :-)

Working full time outside of my home makes it very difficult to do a lot of what I'd like to do.  Reality bites.  I often wish I could just stay home so I could get more done and spend more time with my kids.  Then I wonder if that's how it would actually be.  I am definitely someone that needs structure, discipline and routine.  I think tonight I'll grab a spiral notebook and start brainstorming.  I want to plan meals for the week. I want to dedicate workouts to certain days.  I want to dole out more responsibilities to my co-inhabitants. It wouldn't kill them to wash their own underwear, right? And anyone can cook, right? That's what Gusteau said.  I'm taking his word for it. I love that movie!! Ugh...squirrel!

I'm so easily distracted.

So Monday's are Tae Bo days, officially.  For now. I think I'll make Carmen Electra my Tuesday sweat session.  I'm so excited!!

Oh, it's on...

OOOUUUCCCHHH!!

Sorry. That was just me kicking myself in the ass.

I haven't blogged here for a while because I was too busy making excuses for why I couldn't work out.  I have been working out. I just haven't been doing it regularly like I said I would.  I know they're excuses, but honestly, sometimes I just want to scream because I can't seem to find 45 minutes to fit in a work out.  I seriously cry about it. It's not healthy, in any sense of the word.  I work a full time job and that leaves me at least 5 good hours every evening.  How is that not enough time??  What woman can't get a trip to the grocery store, dinner cooked, dishes done, laundry started, homework done, at least 20 minutes of family time, dogs fed, mail read, clothes changed and still have enough motivation to whoop Billy Blank's ass?  Is it just me? I will not be bikini ready by June 1 at this pace.  Not even short shorts ready.  Not even running in a tank top ready. Get your shit together, Sambo!!!

Okay, so I threw my back out.  That's never happened, right? I was smart and babied my lumbar region for a few days but then I tried to do little workouts like Yoga and stretching.  I did it as long as I could stand to and I avoided the things that were too much for my poor little vertebrae.  I did the heat thing. I did the stretching thing.  I even found a stretching technique that I use even when I'm not in work out mode.  I can't do it at work...at least not with anyone around.  But I used it when we were watching the super bowl at my cousin's and it really did relieve some of the tension.  I have Scoliosis.  I've had it since I was a kid but I went to a chiropractor for 6 years.  Apparently....it helped? Honestly, I think the back issues started at birth when my loving father refused to get me the braces for my legs and feet that the Dr. was recommending.  But I was a newborn, what the hell do I know about that?  It could have been the multitude of car accidents that I was involved in over my lifetime....only one of which I was the driver in...and it wasn't my fault, dammit. And the only other obvious and legitimate reason I could have back pain is the $4000 worth of sheer joy I had installed a few years ago...on my chest.  Go ahead, say it. I dare you.  I don't regret getting them.  I just think I was a fool for not being more in shape a very, very long time ago.  Then, the 'extra weight' might not be an issue.  My posture is terrible!  I do sit the majority of the day at work.  But I get up a lot. And I get out just about every afternoon.  I even have this little plastic thing at work that has pictures of exercises you can do at your desk so you don't get 'sore'. I'm a big high heal person too. I work in a professional atmosphere, people. I can't wear tennis shoes! Besides, a women's legs look much better when she's wearing a pair of heels. Common knowledge, right? So it's been almost 4 weeks and my back is still not 100%. It's slow going for now.  But I haven't given up.

I've decided that I'll stick to Tae Bo, Yoga and stretching until my back is ....back.  Yeah.  Well, I won't be doing the things that seem to strain my lumbar region the most. I'll be focusing on being more flexible.  I am setting new goals until I can get back to the weights and the plyometrics. My hubby even bought me some bands. I'm pretty excited to use those! But in the meantime, Carmen, Billy and Tony are doing a great job keeping me focused. By the end of this week I'm hoping I can get back to some intensity. The fact that my husband is more flexible than me...is really getting on my nerves. He's a weight lifter. He's tight all over. He's not supposed to be able to touch his toes.  He's not supposed to look better doing a warrior pose than me! So what, he can do oodles of pull ups and I can't do one.  So what, he can throw 50+lb. weights around and I'm still using my 10's.  If his muscles keep talking smack I'm seriously going to have to go ninja on his ass! It's on, Silver!!! I love that man. :-)

motivate me this

Push ups suck.

I'm definitely getting better with them but holy back arms, Batman! . The first time I had to do them when we started the P90X before Christmas, I did maybe...4.  Don't look at me like that. I was trying, hard. I was silently blaming the Dr. that did my implants. After I had them done (and they're under the muscle), it was hard to lift my arm to shave my armpits. Hard as in, uncomfortable.  I had a numb and tingling sort of sensation in my shoulder, down, and around my shoulder blade. It went right down my arm pit. I thought he severed some nerves or something!  Dramatics aside, I read that the numb and tingling feeling was normal and would subside.  It's been almost 4 years and it still exists when I lift my arms.  But anyhoo...I should be able to do stinking push ups!! I get a lot lower than I did in the beginning and I can do more of them in each set.  So I'm up to like...7.  I kid. I did 12 in one set last night!  Woo hoo!  The last one was a little wimpish. But I did it. And I did 40 all together!! There are so many different ways to do push ups! I had no idea! One of these days I'll be able to do the ones where your whole body comes off the ground and you clap.  Right now, it's just laughable. I don't want to talk about it. In the beginning I thought I was seriously going to hate Tony (P90X Guru)...and sometimes I really, really do!  But seeing how easy it is for him to do these push ups...jumping all over the dang place, being nothing but positive the whole time, cracking jokes, pushing the limits every set...it's inspiring.  It's maddening, at times. But I love it.  I want to have THAT energy! Now I can't afford all the supplements, recovery drinks, vitamins and crap he sells with the program.  (Okay, it's not crap) But I am eating better and hydrating more and I do notice a difference.  However, I have a confession to make.

I don't work out every day.  And when I do, it's not always P90X.  But you know what? That's okay.  Because every day, I'm doing SOMETHING. And that's a step in the right direction for this girl.  I might need to do 180 days to get where I want to be instead of 90, but that's okay too.  I'm not giving up hope. I'm setting goals and reaching them! I'm still motivated. And I'm proud of myself.  Remember how I said that hearing the hubby talk about his body and his goals and his workout all the time was making me uncomfortable? That's not quite how I worded it...I'm pretty sure I said it was pissing me off.  Anyway, remember? Well I'm learning to let him inspire me.  Instead of feeling that overwhelming sense of guilt when he talks about how much better he's already getting...I totally agree and encourage him (and OMG, he's pretty fly! I'm so stinkin' jealous of his abs!  I'm watching you, girls. Keep your distance!). I start to feel those emotions and I just smile.  I'm proud to have a man that cares so much about his physique.  And I'm glad he has patience enough to help me try to get to that same place.

I used to be a serious twig growing up. Like, the ones the birds use to make their nests!? I was always the smallest in my class, fragile, dainty, tiny.  I was made fun of. I was teased for not blossoming until I was almost 15. "You're so flat you make the walls jealous". Stuff like that.  I never thought that I'd ever be here...fighting to get back to a healthy weight.  So if you know someone who is in denial and thinks they don't need to exercise, please tell them that it's better to start when they are healthy than to wait until they think they need it.  I ran as a teenager and I did some aerobics.  But nothing too regular.  I stopped doing that when I was 18. Then 8 years later I have 2 kids and love handles. Now I look back at my 'love handles' in pictures and wish that it was the only thing I was trying to lose now! Good grief. I mean, I can totally admit that I'm getting older and my body is changing but what the hell, man?! I can't do a single pull up! I struggle to do push ups...correctly. I can't keep my legs straight when I do stretches. I can't touch my toes without bending my knees. I can't do a proper sit up. Ab ripper X is kicking my tail section!!! I can't even make it down to the basement and back up without getting winded.  At 36 years of age, I should be in way better shape than this! I just started this journey so I know I have some time before I really see results.  But yesterday I went up and down my stairs 4 times in less than 5 minutes and I didn't get winded once! I don't have the time or the money to get a gym membership right now, but maybe someday.  We have a lot to work with at home and I'm good for now.  When my strength and endurance gets a little better, I'll consider my next move carefully. :-)

Right now I have some light dumbbells.  I'm hoping to get some resistance bands soon.  I also need a yoga block.  Some day in the near future I'd like to get a treadmill or stationary bike.  I am and always have been a very busy person.  I feel better when I'm busy.  I feel good being able to do these work outs at home because I can stop if I need to tend to something important. I like the fact that I don't have to drive somewhere and then drive home.  I like that I can work out with my husband and I don't have to worry about feeling embarrassed or looking stupid if I'm not doing something right.  And if I do feel like he's going to judge me I can go work out in the basement while he's working out in the living room! He's been working out (weight training, not really cardio stuff) pretty much all his life so it's already a lifestyle for him.  He only has minor adjustments to make.  I know that my adjustments will take longer to pay off. And when they do I hope I have the discipline to stick with it.  I'm not getting any younger!

I've made a lot of excuses over the years for why I can't fit a work out into my daily routine.  I work outside of my home 45 hours a week, I have kids, I have to cook and clean, I get tired after all that and don't have the energy to work out, my back hurts (I have Scoliosis so that's a legitimate pain, but not a legitimate excuse!), I don't have the right 'equipment', or I wouldn't even know where to start.  I know now that my priorities were a little out of whack.  If I can't manage my time better it's not going to get any easier.  And again, I'm not getting any younger! Or am I!? WA ha ha ha ha....

I don't know what today's work out entails just yet, but I'm pretty sure it won't be my arms since they're ABOUT TO FALL OFF from yesterdays routine!  I let the man keep track of that and he just lets me know  before we start. If it's something that I know I won't get much out of for one reason or another, I'll do cardio with Billy. I love Billy. He kicks ass. :-)  In the last two weeks, here's what I noticed the most.  After I work out, I do have sore muscles and I'm smelly and sweaty BUT, I have a ton of energy left too! I get so much more done now.  Before I would come home, start dinner, eat, clean up and maybe get a load of laundry in before I sat down for the first time. Then I couldn't get up because I was just exhausted! I'm liking this whole energy thing.  I got off work at noon yesterday and did cardio, cleaned the house, did 4 loads of laundry, cooked a pot roast, did P90X with Barry, cleaned my room a second time because Tornado Gabe spent 30 minutes in it while we were working out, took a shower and still felt like I could 'work' for a couple hours. That is such a great feeling! I'm pretty sure switching to non-fat, low-fat foods is helping too.

All in all I'm happy with the pace I'm at so far.  I need to start keeping track of what I do so that I can compare week to week and see that I really am improving.  Sometimes I write it down but sometimes I don't. So, I still have some kinks to work out in that discipline area! Before I know it I'll be walking around in that bikini again, lookin' all fly and stuff.  I keep reading what I've written....and talking to myself but all I really hear is ...."wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle". Ha!

Rubber soles and Sweat balls

Oh, yes. I kicked some Tae Bo ass last night. I held on to my motivation and I did some serious damage to the carpet in my basement.  I decided to hold on to the dumb bells for 1/2 the work out so my punches were a little more ferocious. Half way through the routine I had to put my shoes on. Not sure why I thought bare foot would be a good idea except that there's some awesome, orange, shag carpet in my basement and maybe I thought it would support me better than the hardwood in my living room???  I don't know.  The hubster came down at some point, to observe, I'm sure.  He told me I had good form.  Thanks for the support, hunny bunny. Now get the hell out of the basement while I tear shit up. You're distracting me.

Honestly, it was fabulous. I was sweating balls and loving it. :-) There are a few things I seriously need to get under control.  First, my hair.  It'z crazy, yo! It's too long and heavy to stay up while I'm bouncing all over the room.  I hate the idea of taking the time to braid it but I'm running out of ideas. Second, time matters.  I told the youngster I'd watch a movie with him after I worked out but by the time we ate dinner and I finished the workout...it was 8:30 p.m.  He goes to bed at 9.  Great. Now I have guilt. Tonight I'm working out sooner so we have more time.  One of my fears before I started this journey was that I'd lose time with my dudes.  Gotta tweak this plan....can't be messing up my dude time.  And Third (I won't say last because I'm sure it won't be), the Mr. and I need to be on the same schedule.  I could feel the aggravation creeping up my spine when I was finished and ready to chill...and he was still shaking the house, flinging sweat and seriously infecting my living room. Time to make a schedule for everyone. Helping hands, kids. As Larry would say, "Get 'er done." Mr. muscles asked me to take a few pictures to see if he noticed any progress yet.  We took one a couple days before Christmas and he wanted to compare.  I've always thought he looked good, but when it comes to his body, he's a perfectionist.  I don't know what his major malfunction is. I'd hit that. ;-)

Not sure what's in store for today. I'm thinking I'll try one of the other Tae Bo videos.  Yesterday was cardio.  I need to get the Carmen Electra video from my sister, and Zumba from Rachel. I believe it's Plyometrics today for the P90X. That might work too. The lower limbs are a little spaghetti like from yesterday, but no pain, no gain, right?

I think I'll take the upcoming NON-busy weekend to explore some food possibilities.  Maybe I can plan the weeks meals every Sunday. Or, since I shop on Fridays usually, maybe I should plan on Thursdays! I feel a farmer's market trip coming on. Time to try something new! Suggestions welcome!

Have a great Thursday, everyone! And thanks for reading!

Just do it already!!!

I wonder if this will help.

I'm on a mission. A mission I've been on since 2001, just after I had my second son. I have discovered so much about myself in the last 11 years, some of which I'm not too proud of.  I am proud, however, of the fact that I'm finally taking the time to embrace it all.  I'm not perfect, and I don't want to be.  What I do want is to be around to see my grandchildren and actually be able to entertain them. I'd also like to enjoy retirement age, on my feet, not in a bed, wheelchair or God forbid, a casket.

I think I've found the will, the determination, the courage and the perseverance to start a workout routine. It may not be something as exciting as the stuff you see on the infomercials. Some hard core people might even laugh at me.  But it's a start. And I'm ready.

My husband has been lifting weights since he was a young teenager, six days a week, faithfully. In the 15 years that I've known him, he's never lost site of his goals. He's always been aware of his physique and his eating habits. He's always held on to the hope that one day, he'd have that perfect body he always wanted.  His discipline is enviable. I really always thought it was a guy thing to actually want to work out all the time.  Of course, I'd always been a bean pole who never had to watch what I ate.  Even after I had my first son, who was gigantic, I went back down to a size 5 within a couple weeks.  High metabolism? Maybe. Genetics? Maybe. I think I was just lucky. Now all that carelessness and naivety is catching up to me.  For the last few years I've felt depressed, embarrassed and disgusted with myself.  Hearing my husband constantly talking about his workout, his diet and his body doesn't help.....or does it? Is that what finally has me determined to do something with myself? In my weak little mind I've been hurt by comments he makes knowing all the while that it's not his fault, but coming across as if it is.  Why would he constantly talk about it and throw it in my face when he knows how I feel? Does he not understand how hard this is for me? He works physically hard for a living but I work hard too! 45 hours a week I'm away from home, away from my family, dealing with people who are plagued with issues and taking it out on me.  It's mentally straining to have to uphold this professional attitude all day long. When I come home, I enter the house through the kitchen and don't leave that room until dinner is cooked and dishes are done.  That's at least 2 hours, right? I take one look around my house and immediately I tell myself that my first priority is cleaning up messes.  Like that's ever going to end!? There will always be messes to clean up.  I'm the only girl in my house! The moment I try to sit down and rest a million thoughts race through my mind. There's laundry to be done! There's a dirty cup...better put that in the dishwasher. Did the laundry chute get fixed yet? I need to hang a new shower curtain. Did the dog just pee in that room? How many days do I have left to pay the utility bills? Did I eat too much at dinner? I wonder if I have time to vacuum the basement and stairs. Maybe tomorrow we can get the stuff out of the garage and drop it at the goodwill.  I'll bet it's going to cost an arm and a leg to get that car fixed. My son should definitely be cleaning his room, not playing video games. Why is my husband bouncing around with all that energy after working 12 hours straight, pushing an 800 lb. machine, in the rain? Will this headache ever go away??? That's all in the first 5 minutes of attempting to get a little rest.

I have made every excuse for why I can't work out from one day to the next. I get up at 5:30 a.m. Monday through Friday. Well, the alarm is set for 5:30 a.m.  I usually roll out about 6:00 a.m.  I make a pot of coffee and my husbands lunch while he's in the shower and then I have to wait until he leaves to get ready for work.  Most of the time, he's parked behind me so if I try to jump in the shower, he ends up having to wait on me.  After he leaves I have about an hour and 15 minutes to get ready for work and get the monster up and ready for school.  Trust me, 'the monster' is nothing short of absolutely appropriate. His ADHD meds don't kick in until about 30 minutes after he leaves for school.  And they wear off about an hour before I pick him up at the end of the day. There's nothing more fun that telling a 10 year old 16 times to brush his teeth, 12 times to get dressed, 22 times to quiet down, 10 times to leave the dogs alone, 15 times to put his shoes on, 11 times to get his book bag and 19 times to get in the car. I'm tired 30 minutes after I get out of bed! Once I get to work I'm in need of a 3rd cup of coffee but in light of the fact that I've already gone pee 4 times by then, I'm usually pretty good about letting that need go unfulfilled.  Usually.  Half way through the day I start counting the minutes to quitting time.  I do love my job, don't get me wrong. It's the times when I feel under appreciated, under paid, taken advantage of and taken for granted that make me want to abandon ship. You can only be accused of not doing your job a few times a day before you start believing it.  Picking up the monster is usually pain free.  He talks my ear off all the way home and that helps keep me from thinking about all the crap I put up with all day. Most days require a trip to the grocery store before arriving at the home front.  Dinner is usually served by 6:30-7:00 p.m. and I'm usually out of the kitchen by 8:00 p.m.  That leaves one hour for homework, playtime, showers and good night kisses.  9:00 p.m. for the monster.  This is when I get to sit down for 5 minutes. Sometimes 5 minutes turns into 50.  And sometimes, the couch makes a really great bed. There aren't too many nights that I sleep with no interruptions.  The dogs have to pee, the bar patrons outside my window have a hard time getting to their cars, my husband hogs the bed and the covers and the little dog can't ever get close enough to that little nook behind my knees.  I'm good with the little dog behind my knees. He loves me and it's comforting.  In recent years I've been through some traumatic situations that have caused me to screw up my sleep schedule and my eating habits because of pain, depression, physical illness and lack of motivation.  I've blamed my lack of motivation and discipline on fatigue and generally not feeling well.  I always thought I'd be wasting my time to try to start a work out routine that I couldn't maintain.  I don't know what the hell I was waiting for.  Lightening? A winning lottery ticket? World War III? Do you see what I mean by excuses??

A couple days before Christmas my husband asked me if I wanted to start a work out program with him.  You know the one I'm talking about. With Tony What's-His-Name. The one that takes 3 months to complete? Yeah. That one.  P90X. He couldn't quite read my 'are you effing kidding me' face.  Apparently I looked like I was just contemplating.  So, Mr. work out buff, who lifts weights 6 days a week wants to start something new that will kick his ass into shape.  Great. Good luck, muscles. I wish you the best. This girl? Not ready for that.  Before I knew it he had popped in the video and I was on the floor, on the brink of tears, begging my weak little body for just one little push up. Just one. I was even doing them girly style with my legs crossed. Well hot damn, I did 4!!!  Pull ups were a little more challenging.  I made it all the way through the routine! I didn't do as many reps as my husband. And I didn't use near the amount of weight.  But I did it. I decided to do it because I knew he wasn't going to stop asking me.  But I stuck it out to prove to myself that I could do it. And I did!  Hello, motivation and determination! Here we are, 2 weeks later and I've done 6 days worth of this work out routine.  In light of the holidays I was a little short on time some of those days, but I am very proud of myself.

Now that I know I can make it through a 60-90 minute routine as hard core as that, I feel like I can do anything! I did yoga for the first time and I promise you...I will never view yoga as a 'girly work out' ever again! I've done Tae Bo and dancing routines and even some celebrity routines, like the Carmen Electra one.  I love it all.  I may not have the kahunas to make it 90 days with P90X just yet...but I'll be working out nonetheless.  If I don't think I can make it through that, I'll pop in my Tae Bo cardio.  If I need something a little less cardio and a little more targeted, I'll pop in some yoga.  And if I need something REALLY motivational, I'll share the room with Carmen for 36 minutes. Like I said, this might not be the way other people go about starting a routine but I figure if I just do something every day...I'll condition myself mentally and build the confidence to try P90X again.  Whatever happens, my goal is to love my body again.  I want to wear a bikini and not have to cover it up with a t-shirt or a wrap.  I want to get back in my skinny jeans.  I want to feel better. I want to keep up with my kids...and my grand kids.  I want to live a long time and make a million memories for my kids to hold on to.

I know there are a ton of different websites where I can keep track of this stuff, but this is how I want to do it.  Maybe I'll use some of those other resources too.  But for now, this is what I'm comfortable with.  And you know what? That's ok.  Because at least I'm doing something! Watch out Billy Blanks! Prepare yourself, Tony Horton! And move over Carmen Electra! It's on! This girl is prepared to Zumba herself right into sexy!!