A lot of my time off from the gym was spent thinking about the gym, and how it was all going to work its way out- so to speak. At first when I had gone back to work I tried getting up at 6am to work out, then get Baby up and so on. However, the first night Baby decided not to sleep through the night ruined all that. Baby is an amazing sleeper, I'm not going to lie- I have it good and I know this. There was just no way I was getting up any earlier then I had to, to work out. I'm not a morning person and just because I'm a mom doesn't change this fact. There are things that change after childbirth, and there are things that don't. The fact that I hate everyone and everything in the morning did not change.
So after my year of thought, I realized that joining the gym in my work building and working out at lunch would do the trick. Low and behold it worked! I actually made it work, and I actually enjoy going since its not at the end of the day when I am exhausted, I'm not taking any time away from my family, and its not in the dreaded morning time. The only thing I miss out on is my girl time at lunch, but Best Friend number 1 now lives down the street so we carpool and I have also made it a point to have girls nights at least once a week to see Best Friend number 2 and Best Friend number 3. Not to mention Good Friend Boss has also now joined the gym so I get to pal around with her and lament about the Gym to someone which is like a bonus!
But lets get real here- rainbows and butterflies aside: loosing weight sucks a bag of dicks. Before I was pregnant I had gotten down to a size 8. Now for me being 6 feet tall this is like a Christmas miracle, like turning water into wine. I have never been a fat girl, but I have never been a small girl either. I'm tall, big, a curvy woman- so a size 2 is never gonna be my life, like not ever. But a size 8?! This was like heaven for me and all because I had finally after all the years of going up and down on the scale figured it out. I figured out the food and the exercise and I managed to actually enjoy my life also, meaning: I wasn't throwing up, starving myself or being unreasonable. I was just a fit person who ate healthy. Then I got pregnant and yada yada you know the rest. Sooo I know after all these years what it takes to become that size 8 again. I know that you don't just magically get there with no work. You get there with a hellava lot of work and then once you are there, you relax because the metabolism is working again and the body is lookin' hot and having wine and cookies on the weekend doesn't even effect you because you 'got this'.
However, getting to this weight nirvana is like a slow unicycle ride up a graded hillside in the snow. Here's what it means for me:
5 to 6 day a week workouts lasting at least an hour long, which consist of cardio and weights. Cardio being either hour long spin classes, running on the tread mill or the boring, grueling eliptical machine. Doing weights every other day. Constantly pushing myself to the next level and not getting lazy about it by sticking to the same routine, it means mixing it up and looking for the next challenge. It means 1600 calories or less a day, 7 days a week- no cheating until the weight is off. It means eating six small boring meals a day- and where the exercise has to change regularly to keep weight coming off, the food is the exact opposite and needs to stay mind numbingly boring sameness day in and day out. It means preparing meals at home and being constantly prepared during the week. Having to compromise during the weekends. It means if Husband wants to go to In-n-out on the weekend that I have to get a protein style burger which consists of a single meat patty between two sheets of ice berg lettuce, no fries. It means always being on top of the grocery lists and knowing there is food in the house. Making sure that if there is a meal eaten out that its a salad and not the good kind with candied walnuts and blue cheese dressing, but the boring salads with a lot of dreaded greens. It means no cake at office parties, no enchiladas at work lunches, it quite frankly means : I hate you if you are eating anything remotely that looks like it might taste good.
Now I know all this, and this is why I put it off for a year. The stress of having a new baby and being a first time Mom meant to me that I got to eat. I didn't have the time or the money to shop, I couldn't go out with friends, I barely had time to take a good crap so I got to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and I stopped caring. I didn't have to figure out my next workout or my next meal. I could just relax when I had the time to sit still, and that was my way of giving myself a break after giving birth: a little back on the back-'you did it you had a child!' Unfortunately now, I am paying it back full time.
Oddly its not as hard as it seems. I am a slave to routine, and by slave I mean a joyful S&M slave and not someone chained against their will. I enjoy routine and the mediation it brings to my life, it helps me feel secure. I like knowing what is coming next. so I do well with it and once I work out the bugs it goes pretty smoothly for me. I've always been an all or nothing kind of girl anyway.
So Ive lost 17 pounds in two months and I still have another 27 to go before I reach that size 8 again, seeing as how I didn't loose any of that Baby weight like I was supposed to after giving birth. Instead I just lost the basket ball in my stomach and kept the rest. its a long road but I am determined to get there. I will be wearing my skinny jeans again by the end of this year!
