So, almost two years ago, I decided to get serious about losing weight. And by "serious" I mean that I stopped thinking that I could lose weight with wishful thinking alone. A thousand times I planned on doing something that would help me lose weight. I'd plan on training for 10k, or buy a new bike, or buy an elliptical. And then I would make a plan - if I had this elliptical at home, I could wake up before the babies, get in my workout and start the day off right. Then, by such and such a date, I would be in tip top form.
All of my plans involved exercise. I never really focused on eating right. Prior to having kids all I needed to do was work out for three months or so and I'd be at my prime "fightin' weight" (as we like to call it here at Chez Handeland). I remember working for the resort, and spending the winters sitting in the office/concession stand of the pool building. I was young and single, so I didn't buy groceries. I'd go to work at the pool, eat a Snickers bar with my morning coffee, have an ENTIRE frozen pizza for lunch, and then throw down a bag of chips for my afternoon snack. All of this before heading to the local pizza joint for a pitcher of beer, aka dinner. I may have been unhealthy, but I was skinny (for me).
Anyway, those babies came along and I found myself 40 pounds overweight. So, I needed a plan. I'd sign myself up for a 10k. "I'm really going to train for this" I'd say. Ten weeks and no training later, the 10k would come up and I would find myself at the starting line of a race I had no business being in.
Then I said, no no. I can't train for races with small childrens. I needed something at home so I could work out when the children napped. Then came the elliptical. I never used the elliptical as a clothes hanger, because that would mean I wasn't really going to use it. Which I never really did. Somehow, I thought that just having the machine in the house meant that I should lose weight.
It just seemed that I always had a plan, but never actually did anything with it. So I signed up for Weight Watchers. I lost three pounds the first week. Then next week was Labor Day. I gained half of that three pounds back. This is when I realized that just having a new bike or exercise machine or being signed up for a program does not equal weight loss. I had all the plans, I had all the tools, but I wasn't using them. I was actually going to have to DO some work.
So that's what I've been doing the last almost two years. I'm 6 pounds away from my goal. I have a friend who started the program 6 months after me. She's also only 6 pounds away from her goal. Granted she's lost 102 pounds in that time. I'm a bit of a slow learner...also, have I mentioned that I married a chef? A chef that bakes cinnamon rolls and muffins on a weekly basis? Not that I'm making excuses. It's just that I'm a weak woman, especially when it comes to my baked goods baking chef. (Thankfully, he's recently started working with me. Things are always more fun when he's involved.)
I'd like to reach my goal before I hit my two year mark. That's about 8 weeks away. Which co-insides with the start of family vacation. Which will no doubt put me right back to where I am now. It's a vicious cycle, but a gal's gotta have goals...right?
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