So last week I started a new workout routine.
I’m working on losing 35 pounds.
Now don’t get me wrong – I only have about 10 pounds of baby weight left on me, which I have since about week three, and none of which budged a bit since then. However, I was about 15 pounds heavier than I am comfortable with when I got pregnant, and I’m like drop off another 10 after that. If I don’t, whatever. My clothes all fit me at that range, whether I’ve got an extra 10 on me or not. It’s weird.
My goal is the end of the year, hopefully most of it by the end of November, when my husband and I are headed some place nice and warm for a week and I’ll need to get into my Warm Weather Vacation Clothes.
I feel like 35 pounds is a doable amount in seven months, and has me averaging a loss of five pounds a month. It’s super-slow, allows me to eat and work back up to my old workout routines safely and I think will allow me to be easy on myself since it’s not like gained all of that in a day, either.
I know maybe that my body shouldn’t be something I focus on, but I am. I don’t want to end up a cliche, and even more pressing to me, to lose the athleticism that has been so important to me and become such a part of who I am. Plus? I can’t afford new clothes. Some things, I know, won’t ever fit the way they did before, but trust me: I’ve always been heavy, and my weight has always fluctuated. I know how to appropriately manage my expectations with my clothes.
I haven’t stepped on a scale since I was at the midwives six weeks ago. I’m using that number, and I’ll probably track it every 30 days or something, but I know it’s smarter to lay off the scale for the moment. I know some folks need the scale, but I am not one of those people, despite me having a number-goal attached to this endeavor.
I’m doing the Chalene Extreme series, as well as some walking with the baby and probably some yoga. It’s ludicrous to think I would be able to keep up a gym routine, so at-home workouts really work well for me at the moment. Abigail is a little unpredictable in the mornings still, so I will probably have to get used to working out after she goes to bed, though this week I’m getting them done before the nanny leaves for the obvious reasons.
I’ve talked before about me not wanting my daughter to inherit my bullshit body image stuff, and I mean it. I think it’s never too early to start, and so working out and eating well, even when she’s only 11-weeks-old, now is a good way to establish the sort of habits I’ll want her to think about adopting once she is aware of more than just the back of her hands.
I’m not dieting, though I am closely watching what I eat. If I want pizza, which I did last night, I’ll eat it, provided the rest of my day was lead healthfully and soundly. I do think Bethenny Frankel has the right idea when she talks about looking at our diets as bank accounts, and there is nothing you can’t actually eat, provided you don’t eat it all at once.
(Though, I’m a little put off by her practice of limited bites of certain foods. Three bites of an NY Strip steak just sounds like an eating disorder waiting to go off, but that’s just my perspective. I know everyone has their own triggers and things they have to do to work for them. If I want a steak with butter, I’m eating that whole fricking thing, based on how much it’ll likely cost me alone. Steaks are not cheap! )
Primarily, I want to feel better than I do right now. Or did a week ago. Already one week into this and I feel a million times better than I did before. And while some days will be hit or miss, I feel excited, hopeful, ready to don a pair of pants that aren’t stretchy in the near future.
