bet you thought i was gone, huh? that i had given up on the dream of being healthy and squeezing my ass into those sexy jeans from 2008 that are probably not even fashionable anymore?
i have three words for you: FUCK. THAT. SHIT.
these past 4 months have been far from perfect, but i have learned a lot. granted, the first half of that was spent drinking beer and eating naughty things and just plain being a lazy old fuck. BUT, after spending about 6 weeks saying, "i'll start again on monday," this bitch finally found the motivation to say, "FUCK MONDAY."
i came to realize that that is the oldest excuse ever. you know what? monday NEVER comes. so don't fall into that trap. your metabolism doesn't take the weekend off, so why should you wait until monday to kickstart that motherfucker?
so what have i been doing? well... a whole lot of SFA (sweet fuck all), between my last post in may and the end of august. and you know what? i felt like shit. not just your regular run of the mill shit either. i felt like shit that has been ejected steaming and hopeful onto the ground, only to be left baking in the summer sun, stepped on and run over twice. yep, it was bad.
thinking back, it's hard to pinpoint the day that i committed to change, or what might have triggered the desire to find my way back to a healthier lifestyle. but basically, one day i went and bought a pretty little notebook. that afternoon, i flipped through some of my running books and old oxygen magazines to help me figure out a manageable training program. then, i created a training schedule for 6 weeks in my little dollar store notebook, complete with workouts, dates, and spaces for my thoughts on that particular day.
so where am i now? i'll fucking tell you.
i am not the size 8 it would take to fit into those jeans... BUT i am damn close.
i haven't lost any weight. in fact, i seem to have gained 2lbs in the 3 weeks or so since i started. but that's cool. the way my clothes fit tell me more than that hatin' ass motherfucker of a scale.
after 3 weeks in of not missing a single workout, eating mostly clean (i still enjoy a bottle of wine in the tub with the one and only stephen king from time to time), and pushing myself to the point of yelling and swearing at inanimate objects (i.e. weights), i have discovered that I LIKE THIS SHIT.
i like feeling strong. i like the way some muscles that had disappeared under a layer of 'fluff' because of my laziness and bad habits have started to pop again. i like that i can now curl this certain dumbbell, that would never let me lift it more than 8 times, for 15 reps... in perfect form. i like that i can do REAL push ups again. and you know what else? i fucking LOVE running.
sure, i am only at the point where i can run a little more than 3 minutes at a time... but i can honestly say that the thing known as the 'runner's high' is an ACTUAL FUCKING THING. see, all this time, i figured it was just a myth, some bullshit these skinny motherfuckers who sip green tea and eat bean sprouts had created to make the 'fluffier' portion of the population feel inadequate. it's not. why else would a lazy motherfucker like me even bother to get out of bed at 6am, only to head out into the cold and dark with sore legs that feel like they're weighed down with lead and fucking RUN, even before coffee?
believe me, it's not because it's fun. in fact, it hurts at first. especially when your legs are sore from the previous day's workout and you can barely manage to lower your ass to the toilet without spewing profanities. but once that blood starts pumping, once you warm up, it is totally fucking worth it. the sun starts to come up, the day gets brighter, and BAM!! instant morning person. shitting rainbows and smiling at everyone, even BEFORE COFFEE.
so that's pretty much where i am now. i do weights 3 times a week, and i run 4 times a week. the only day i do nothing is on sunday, and even then i usually end up going on a germ genocide mission in the house. and let me tell you, with 3 kids that is no small task. dirty little creatures..
my energy and motivation are at an all time high, and sometimes when i fart, i look back real quick to see if there's any unicorns or fairies fluttering out of my rectum. yep. i have become that sickeningly positive and energetic kind of fucker that i used to hate. and it's not so bad.
(insert hearts and smileys and shit here)
wish me luck!