I’m in Shape. Round is a Shape.

After I dropped Josh off at work today, Nellie and I had a little breakfast at home while waiting for the sun to come up. Once it was light out, we hit a nearby walking track.

As I walked, one foot in front of the other, my knees ached. My shins hurt. My leg muscles groaned in protest and I realized just how miserably out of shape I have gotten. As I pushed Nellie up a slight incline in the track (and I do mean slight), I found it harder to breathe. And I realized even further just how out of shape I’ve let myself become. I used to be able to take an hour-long power aerobics class and only be somewhat out of breath. I reached my goal of running a mile about three years ago and now?

Walking makes me tired.

This is not okay.

We walked for about 30 minutes this morning, time which is usually spent letting Nellie crawl about the living room while I check my e-mail in the morning. I’ve decided to use the time that I have in between getting home from dropping Josh off and having to get ready for work more wisely: I’m going to take walks with Nellie during those 30 (or so) minutes. I’m not going to make any big promises to myself because I have continually let myself down when it comes to fitness and losing weight.. But this I can keep. I have to keep this. Because huffing and puffing when I push my kid up a slight incline isn’t acceptable. I’m 27 years old. My knees shouldn’t ache and pop when I walk and the muscles in my legs should be strong.. Not weak from sitting in a chair all day at work.

One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. I’ve gotta get my body back.


Wiggle Room

One of the worst things about losing weight is the tracking. The constant documentation of what I’m putting in my mouth. I have found this to be the most effective way to drop pounds, as it makes me accountable. When I see at the end of the evening that I’m already at 1,500 calories and my goal range is 1,460 – 1,800 I know that I don’t need that beer. I don’t need to eat a small bowl of ice cream. And while technically, at 1,500 calories a small bowl of ice cream wouldn’t put me over my goal range, I like to stay at the low end of the spectrum.

I’ve been effectively and diligently tracking my calories for about 5 days now and each day, I’ve been on the low end of my goal range. I hate keeping track of my food. It’s a pain in the ass. But at the end of the day when I look at those numbers, I feel satisfied and proud of myself.

The other thing I hate about losing weight this time around is that since I’m not getting any exercise and am relying solely on eating healthier to help me jumpstart my weight loss, I feel little to no place for wiggle room in my diet. Three years ago when I dropped 20 pounds, I was tracking my diet and exercising 4-6 days a week. I allowed myself one cheat day per week to eat whatever I wanted without tracking or feeling bad. It helped keep me sane and gave me something to look forward to. However, without that exercise I feel like a cheat day would be counterproductive. I’m thinking of allowing myself one cheat day every two weeks, or maybe even just one cheat day a month.

It’s the pits, because I love food. I love to eat. I don’t like watching what goes in my mouth but I guess I’m paying the price of being so complacent & lazy during my pregnancy. I looked fantastic pregnant but now that the shiny hair, glowing skin and adorable belly have been gone for almost a year I just look squishy. I do feel a certain sense of pride when I see that calorie tracker within my goal range. It does remind me, however, just how far I have to go. I am hoping that I can find some time somewhere to start exercising. It doesn’t have to be strenuous, even a 30 minute walk a few times a week would be an improvement from what I’m getting now.

Blah. All of you women who dropped the baby weight once your child was born & don’t really have to work at having a flat stomach suck. I say it affectionately, but you suck. My stretch marks and cellulite hate you just a little. Working at being fit & at a healthy weight BLOWS, especially when you have such a passionate love affair for food like I do. And beer. I like beer but I can’t justify drinking ANY with all this excess weight on me. I have had the occasional glass of white wine while I’m cooking dinner, but a glass of white wine is only about 70 calories.

Okay, bitchfest over. To sum up: I’m fat, I hate it, but I also hate tracking my calories. P.S., it just started snowing. Unrelated.

The end.