Here's what happens when we have a lovely dinner date with the Talleys, and then we all come back here and Austin and Brad watch Mighty Boosh videos and Anna and I gab about wedding ideas: I forgot to blog. Damn. Very disappointed in self.
I did the abs and butt pilates workouts Thursday morning, and have been so sore since then that I'm hobbling around like a cripple. I swear I've forgotten how to walk normally. I thought it would be smart to go to the gym after work yesterday, just to stretch my muscles and warm things up. I walked on the treadmill for a half hour, and am still just as sore. So my solution was to sleep for 12 hours last night, and I must have slept crooked because now I can't raise my left arm above shoulder heighth without a pinching pain that runs from elbow to jaw. This is it. I'm getting old. I'm in my early 30s and my body is betraying me.
Now, really, that's not true. My body is only reacting to the utter sloth and gluttony that I indulge in on a daily basis. I grew up thin. I come from a thin family. I have a fast metabolism, and for the first 25 years of my life, I could eat whatever I wanted, never get any physical exercise, and still never consider my weight or body fat. You guys can throw tomatoes at me; I know this isn't exactly something to complain about. Being thin is considered to be something anyone can comment on. I don't really miss being told, "You're too skinny... you're so thin..." all the time. As if anyone would say something if the opposite was true!
Since Austin and I have been together, and I'm creeping through my late 20s and early 30s, my metabolism is certainly slowing. It was a gradual process, and one that I was in denial about for a very long time. But the truth is, I'm packing on the pounds, adult pounds, ones that are not easy to shed. Fifty of them, to be exact. I think I've gained almost exactly fifty pounds since I met Austin in January of 2004. To look at it that way, like a total amount of body weight, is horrifying. That means I added an additional 30% of myself. In five years. I wouldn't say I was necessarily at my ideal weight five years ago (I was still in single-girl fight-or-flight mode), but I don't recognize myself in photographs now, and I know it's gone too far.
And I know it's obnoxiously obvious to want to lose weight for the wedding. But I have a red and cream flowered strapless dress that I wore for a few special dates in the first year we were together, and I really want to wear it to our rehearsal dinner. So I've got some serious work cut out for me. I'm trying to establish a regular exercise routine, and for an absolute beginner, it's a climb. I'll work out regularly for two weeks and then drop off for two months. If a specific goal of a wedding (and the hundreds of photographs that I want to treasure for eternity) is what it takes, at least I have probably the strongest motivator that I've ever had to lose weight.
The other side of this is obviously diet. And you all know this is not an easy adjustment for me. I think about food all the time. It is a huge factor in my happiness, and also certainly my hobby. I follow my cravings religiously. Denying myself is not my style. I'm not going to go on a crash diet. We tried the master cleanse last summer and it was a no-holds-barred disaster. Not for me. All I can promise to do is eat LESS of the bad things, and more of the good things, and try to maintain a balance. I cleared all the garbage foods out of my snack drawer at work. I'm making a point to cook with fish one night a week. I do crave salads, and I'm trying to put less unhealthy-but-tasty accoutrements on those salads (ok, not every salad needs an ounce of goat cheese). It's a number of small adjustments, but hopefully it will help me keep up the motivation on the exercise front, and all balance out.
Now I'm going to drag my crippled body to the Farmer's Market for lunch, and then rest up for the Roller Derby tonight! Good luck, All-Stars!