I’m inspired today. By what, you ask?
I’m inspired by two things – a friend’s blog and a reality check.
First off, my friend’s blog. She’s smart, witty, realistic, a working mom and apparently married to a personal-trainer-bodybuilder-like dude. He’s recently become her personal trainer. Somehow I’m thinking that translates to a heckuva lot of tough love, and it definitely wouldn’t work for me and the Spouse, but good for her. She’s keeping it real, sharing her challenges (gaining weight but losing inches), new ventures (Zumba!) and funnies from the weight room (musclebound guys who take themselves way too seriously are always funny.)
You can check her out here: Deadlifts for a Dingbat.
Anyhoo, like I said – she’s inspired me. Because if she can keep it real, so can I. Fitness is a journey, right? And it’s supposed to be about the journey, not the destination. She’s been brutally honest about her fitness journey. And I’m motivated, because she’s starting to see results and have more energy. I want that to be me. As a former gym rat/fitness nut, I’ve gotta be real here.
I’ve let myself go in the fitness department. Badly. And healthy eating? Ha. About the only ‘healthy eating’ tip I’ve followed lately is portion control. As in, ‘I’ll only eat a medium-small portion of these greasy, salty tortilla chips with queso.’ Which sounds like (heck, let’s be real – it IS) a cop-out to my rusty gym rat brain.
Now, I don’t mean that I’ve let myself go in that I’ve gained lots of weight. I haven’t. Well, not much anyway. I could probably stand to gain a few pounds, truth be told. But any smidgeon of muscle tone is pretty much gone. If I were a celebrity, the paparazzi would have me on the front of the Enquirer with my eyes blacked out and ‘skinny fat’ plastered across some part of my body. Guaranteed.
For years I didn’t really have to worry about that. When the minions were little, I had some pretty rockin’ Mama arms – toned, defined, strong, stringy even. Just from wrestling their little behinds into diapers, strollers, car seats, etc. I kept up my leg muscles with running, stairmaster and countless hours on the elliptical.
Guess what? The minions got bigger. Nowadays the heaviest thing I tote around is my purse.
Which brings me to my second source of inspiration – the reality check. I got the new issue of InStyle the other day and it had the inevitable ‘Best Bikini Body Ever Tips’ feature on the cover. WTHeck? It’s that time already? Yikes. That got my attention, because I’ve been hiding underneath layers, baggy pajamas and thick sweaters for the last couple of months.
So I took a good hard look at the evidence this morning. And there they were: The Problem Areas.
You know what I mean, ladies. We all have them. They may be different for all of us, but let’s get real. EVERY woman has a list – however small – of Trouble Spots that we would gladly nip, tuck, laser, shrink or (rarely) expand with a magic wand if we could. I saw mine loud and clear this morning. In full daylight.
And right now they ain’t pretty.
Side note – I found myself suddenly thinking about a college friend of mine. She was (and is) absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. But I remember her lamenting her Problem Area. Yep, she had one. Know what it was?
Her arms. My friend was so self-conscious that her arms were too skinny (yep, you read that right) that she ended up in a long-sleeved wedding gown. In August. In Texas. I bet she was sweltering. But for her, that was important – to hide that Trouble Spot.
Here’s the scoop. I need to get moving. And NOT just moving to the pantry to get a small portion of junk, either. Really. Moving. Because my Problem Areas are definitely not my skinny arms! And if I eat actual non-processed food that’s remotely healthy and get moving, I just might have a bit more energy after work. Just maybe I’d feel like doing something besides collapsing in the evenings. (Sadly, as I type this, I’m sucking down a Cup o’ Soup. But I PROMISE that dinner will not be powdered and/or processed.)
So thanks, ladies! Thanks for the inspiration and the reality check!