Kathy comes to my house almost every morning. We get out weights, turn on crazy-frog music, and pop in the 30 Day Shred DVD. Jillian is a task master, but just when I am about to die, the work out is over and I am contentedly sweating and sipping water in a lovely static position (on my butt). We have been doing this for about two months now, and
I am seeing changes here and there.
It hurts here and its sore there.
And though my body is changing, somehow it feels like only my clothes are (clothes shrink and expand, you know), because my mind hasn't figured it all out yet.
First off, there is the matter of chocolate.
In my opinion, there will never be enough of the stuff, and like a good tan, the darker the better. Then there is that small matter of the mind-body connection; when ever my mind stumbles into hurt feelings or sad and lonely thoughts, my body walks into the kitchen and finds the previously mentioned chocolate.
All my life, I thought I would be able to eat whatever as long as I was exercising. Well, since I have never gotten past the first few days of pain in exercising, I have never tested my theory. It turns out I have been given some bad intel, because the only thing this regimine has done for me is to place a fabulous layer of muscle under my fluffy outer layer. I have a six pack under my padded suit. If you punch me in the stomach you can feel my phenomenal rock hard abs, but you won't hurt your hand. Bonus.
Who would have thought that regular exercise would turn out to be the easy part? Oh, but wait...
It is and it isn't. As long as I have Kathy by my side, I am fine, but on the days that she can't come, suddenly the messy house looms and the tender muscles cry out and, um, well, I don't end up getting around to it.
So I am trying to go brain dead.
Thinking is just getting me into trouble.
When I am helping a mama in labor and she starts to give away her strength by thinking about the contractions that lay in wait, I call her back.
Be. Here. Now.
You are doing this. This is all you have to do for now. This moment. Right now.
So I am turning off my brain.
I get up.
We work out.
That's all for now.
(except that every once in a while, I poke my finger into my squishy belly
and feel my really cool muscles there, and smile)
You can't see it yet, but things are starting to change.