OK. Moment of truth last night while I was sitting at my laptop. I reached back and something went pop in my tummy. Weird sensation. Small. I ignored it. Went to shower and saw this black and blue mark. I don’t remember banging myself, but maybe I did when John and I were hardware store shopping several times over the weekend. When I lifted the giant box of holiday decorations to it’s 11-month spot above my closet on Sunday, I scraped my arm. Instantly a big red welt developed. It’s still there. So, come to hay Zeus moment for me last night. I’m officially a BEFORE, again. Smile. Let’s do this?
With optimism I begin 2013. This afternoon is my first Try Fitness winter cycling session. I got a great vibe off the group that had gathered at Saturday’s meeting. Life still happens. There’s a scheduling conflict already with a memorial service for my late brother-in-law this weekend. Despite life throwing a wrench into my pursuit of fitness, I am determined to stick to the program. I need to. My butt and gut are qualified for their own Zip code.
I wake up at 4:15 a.m. when I drive to work so I can get street (free) parking and clock in by 6 a.m. These workout days can get long. Wine gets pushed to the back of the cabinet, cooking is simple and quick, kids are expected to step up. It’s a good stretch for all of us.
When you are a parent, working out isn’t just about your personal fitness pursuits. It’s about your kids closing the gap on chores and policing themselves for homework and putting a napkin under the cup so it doesn’t sweat permanent rings on the table. Socks don’t jump all by themselves into the laundry, a fact that astonishes children of all ages!
During the drive home I usually feel pretty good. Spent, tired, encouraged, optimistic. In a split second that can all change if I arrive and my kids are sitting in the dark at their computers and I step on popcorn that didn’t quite make it into somebody’s mouth. Sure, go ahead and try that microwave-brownie-in-a-mug recipe but do not THINK you can leave a path of cocoa powder on the floor and a crusted-over mug on the counter. The little six-legged pets might be OK with it, but I’m not!
Stay tuned. I’ll let you know how these workouts are doing. I will only allude to my soft, creamy center. Usually, when I start getting thinner, I write more about my body. Right now, let’s just say, it feels like I’m a BEFORE all over again. I’ve been blogging for a couple of years now, and you’ve really only known me as a BEFORE. I’m as bored with that as you. Thank you for enduring. You, too, John.