I totally fell off the wagon these last two weeks.
Fell off, hit my head, passed out, and didn’t wake up until yesterday.
The kids got sick, then I got sick, then we had school starting craziness, and then two weeks had gone by and I’d eaten Doritos twice (TWICE! SELF FAIL!) and only worked out three times. Or maybe only twice. Or, possibly not at all except for a couple of times where I did a set of squats in the kitchen while standing in front of the cabinet with the Nutella and pretzels, the squats being a last-ditch attempt at making my brain think it was totally okay to eat pretzels dipped in Nutella while losing myself in numerous episodes of NJHW and wishing I still lived in Jersey. Because OH MY can those ladies throw down.
I can totally tell, too. My hip has been aching, my back and neck are sore. When I exercise, those ailments magically disappear. I don’t get it. You’d think relaxing with my feet up would be so good for my body.
Today I’m back, though. A fellow blogger and I have decided to self-motivate by doing a little weight-loss competition on our personal blogs. For me it’s not just about the weight (although losing those 15 pounds would be nice), but it’s a way for me to think about taking care of my body on a daily basis. Plus, it’s fun. And obnoxious, because the ‘loser’ has to post an ugly, no-makeup just-rolled-out-of-bed pic of themselves on their blog. I like obnoxious, and losing doesn’t work well for me, so it’s highly motivating to keep away from the Nutella. And Doritos.
I’ve just been ‘eh’ for so long. Not fat, not thin, not totally out of shape, but not what I’d call fit either. So average, for so long. It’s ridiculous.
Today I turn 32. At 22, I wasn’t fabulous. I was average then too. Thinner, of course, as I hadn’t had kids to stretch the shit out of everything yet, but still average. I want to be the best version of myself. I want my daughters to look at me and see strength, and health.
So I need to be strong, and healthy.
On the wagon. Back in the saddle. On the ball. Standing at the plate.
Oh, my God, I need to stop idiomizing myself and just do something already.