Well yesterday’s Operation: Cut the Fat was successful. I was heartened to see some familiar faces: the red haired boy who works at the front desk, the group exercise instructor who runs at an alarmingly face pace on the treadmill for 45 minutes straight, and, my personal favorite, this tiny packed-in-tight super-dykey (but straight) body builder rocking the short curly mullet (I only know she’s straight because she’s often on her cell phone in the locker room complaining about her latest failed date with a man). Most of the equipment was the same, and I fell into a familiar routine alongside itsy bitsy jogging 19 year olds.
I left feeling great, but also a little overwhelmed. Let’s see a raise of hands of those of you with babies/toddlers who would rather get pregnant again RIGHT NOW than go to the gym every other day and watch what you eat? OK, maybe it’s just me. But seriously – getting out of the “I’m pregnant – I can eat anything I want!” and “I’ve just had a baby, give me a break!” mindset regarding working out and eating right is a serious obstacle. I’m not shoveling candy and fast food into my mouth at every meal (nor was I ever), but eating to eat (and thus not be hungry) and eating to lose weight are not the same kind of eating. One involves cereal, sandwiches, and lasagna. One involves an omelet, a green salad with grilled chicken, and salmon with a side of spinach. I’ll let you decide which is which.
Instead of shocking my body into submission, I’m planning on implementing a new system bits at a time. For the next few weeks, I’m going to try and make the lunchtime gym visits a habit 2-3 times a week. Then, around pumpkin pie season, I’ll revisit those omelets to even out said pie consumption. Then maybe more gym, or more green vegetables. Rinse, and repeat. I’m not looking for greatness here, folks, just looking to successfully pull off (or on!) my old self wardrobe so that I don’t have to buy a whole new batch of clothes… again. Additionally, RR weighed in at 12 pounds 13 ounces last week, so lifting her highness in addition to her carseat is bound to increase muscle mass, at least on my dominant arm, right?