My lunacy and my wellness...

It is no secret to those who know me that I have never really been very comfortable in my own skin. I've gone through many, many stages in my life - much like everyone else - but that one thing has always been a constant. Be it among a group of close friends or a group of total strangers it seems I'm forever agonizing over something in my mind while holding a conversation...

Is this shirt clinging to my rolls? Can you see the bra bulge from this angle? Should I sit instead of stand? Can they see my eyebrows sweating or is that just for me to enjoy? My skin looks dry, I should've used a different lotion. Do I take my sunglasses off to seem more approachable? Why do I stand with my arms crossed?! Such a bully pose! Skinny jeans with these thighs - who do I think I am? Can I wear boots in May, is that weird? Why do I buy so many sleeveless tops? I shouldn't even be wearing them with these arms. I have carried the same bag for a solid year, people must think ... 

Stop right there. People must think... People must think WHAT??

I am a lunatic in my mind. Sometimes the lunacy comes out of my mouth but believe it or not I keep it to myself about 92% of the time. When I actually stop to think about what I'm obsessing/worrying about I quickly realize that NOBODY is thinking about any of this shit. Nobody is looking at my skin's moisture level. Not a single soul has noticed that I've carried the same bag for more than twelve months. No one cares a lick if I wear sunglasses or not. Granted, there may be people that have noticed my thick thighs, my un-toned arms and my springtime footwear choice BUT I am quite certain that after their glance they moved on with their life.

Ugh.

I have been this way since I was about nine. That is SUCH a long time to feel like crap about yourself. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I feel ugly and heinous all the time. I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT. I have moments where I feel comfortable/satisfactory. It is important to feel good in what I'm wearing - if I can do that then my day is pretty easy. If I stray and try to wear something that isn't "me" that's where I get into trouble. I think some of that junk stems from my watching episodes of What Not To Wear. I realize that most of what I choose to wear is a no-no. But ya know what? I'm a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl. Put me in a blouse and I want to light shit on fire. I can't conform. I don't want a sensible pant suit. I look like a dumpy snowman in sweaters, I prefer a sweatshirt. I own exactly one pair of "pants" and I've never worn them. I'm pretty sure I can get through the rest of my life wearing what I want rather than what style experts recommend for my "type."

I lost forty pound about two years ago and I still wear oversized clothing. I think that's just so deeply rooted in me but I am working on moving forward. Moving out of my comfort zone is done at a baby snail's pace for certain. I want so badly for my outer appearance to reflect how fit and healthy I finally feel/AM. I'll admit that still looking "out of shape" makes me feel unhappy. I've worked hard but I know I have to work harder. I've recently started a new workout schedule and so far it's a winner. Seeing and feeling results right away makes it so much easier to keep putting in that work. I've continued my clean eating lifestyle for nearly two years now. {Confession: I am addicted to gluten free pretzels but hey, we all have our vices. Wink.}

I'm a work in progress but I can tell you that I've never felt as good as I do now. I'm forty. I WISH I felt this way at fifteen. Or twenty-five. Or thirty-two. It's all about your mindset. When you are truly ready to make that change you go hard. If any of you are feeling stuck in a rut, out of shape, out of breath, out of energy, out of options - please message me and I will let you know how you can take steps to change that. My girl, Joanna aka GetRealGal, can and will help you. I promise you it is easier than you think to make these changes. You start small and you win big. Working on your wellness is always worth it.

xo

I'm gonna be grouchy...

Just a few minutes ago I contemplated exercising. I pictured lacing up my sneaks and working out for maybe thirty minutes, leaving me just enough time to take a quick shower before Scarlett's speed-nap is over. Do I have my sneakers on? No. Am I doing crunches while I type this? Nope. Why not? Because today I have chosen to sit in my recliner and relax for a few minutes. It's not going to help my lasagna arms, true, but it's going to make me feel good just the same.

So maybe I don't always make the best decisions. I'll admit I haven't been exercising for months - I just can't get back into a routine. Right now my schedule allows for either thirty minutes in the afternoon or 5:30 am workouts. I normally get up between 6:15 and 6:30 and realllllllllly enjoy the days where I can just have a slow cup of coffee before Scarlett wakes up. Most days I'm rushing around showering, making breakfast and getting myself ready before 7:30. There is no real break until the afternoon nap - which is never for more than an hour. I typically spend that free time cleaning, writing or prepping dinner. The terribly apparent fact is that early morning workouts are my best bet right now. Ugh.

I've always hated exercising but I love the feeling I get when I am in a good routine. Even just three or four days a week, working different parts of the body each day, stretching and toning --- it feels great. Noticeably great. Like, I can actually feel my muscles working differently when I climb the stairs great. I love that. I love feeling strong and limber. I've noticed a difference since being somewhat sedentary. Not that I'm sitting around on my ass all day but chasing a toddler around is just not a real workout. Tiring, yes, but it's just not enough. So, I'm going to have to bite the bullet and get up earlier. But I'm gonna be grouchy.

The good news is that I haven't gained a pound since pregnancy. I'm actually fifteen pounds lighter than I was before I got pregnant, so that makes me feel better. My good eating habits keep me in line but I know that's only half of the equation. I just wish I had the same amount of free time that I had years ago... who doesn't?

By the way guess who just woke up... 

the one about working out ...

You were wondering when this would come up, weren't you? I've toyed with writing this post at least a dozen times over the past few years. I always talk myself out of it. This time, however, I've decided we're going to get into it. And a lot of you (ladies) are going to agree with me. Here we go...

Exercise. Middle fingers UP.
I can't stress enough how much I don't enjoy exercise. I just don't like it. I don't like lacing up my ugly sneakers (they're really not that bad looking, I just feel heinous in sneakers). I don't like setting aside time that could be spent doing other things (most likely cleaning which has already been done to satisfaction). I don't like sweating or lying on the floor doing ab workouts while my asthma creeps up making me feel disgustingly out of shape. I don't like staring at the wall, pounding feet on a treadmill. I don't wear cutesy workout gear or get all jazzed and smile like the dopey lady in the video. And I do NOT go to the gym. I throw on various combination outfits of black and gray, I stand in front of the television in my bedroom, turn the ceiling fan on high, do what 'the lady' says for thirty minutes, kick my stupid sneakers off and immediately shower. And THEN I feel fantastic.

Yes. Only thirty minutes. Get over it. I just can't commit to anything longer than that and have the routine stick. I've tried it all. Believe me. I've been steadily exercising since I was in my late teens. I have to. I'm 5'1" and built like my Great Aunt Rosie. (No offense, Rosie, you were a lovely woman and a helluva good cook). I will confess that after I had the miscarriage (I had exercised during the first trimester) I didn't do a thing during my second pregnancy. Try to tell me that's not healthy. I'll knock your teeth out. After having Scarlett it took me almost four months before I could do much of anything (due to the C-section recovery). When I started back up I started slow. I rotate twenty different workout routines. Interval training mostly. Aerobics/cardio, weights, toning and stretching. They're only a half hour, true, but they get the job done. Sure, I'm not shedding pounds but I'm not gaining them either. I remain seven pounds less than I was before my pregnancy.

Just yesterday I noticed how tired I've been feeling. I thought about it for a minute and realized that I had slacked a bit on the exercising over the past two weeks. I had just been a good mix of busy and lazy. But man, could I tell the difference. It is amazing how my energy plummets when I'm not faithful. I'd much rather just do the damned thing than feel sluggish. So I continue to fight the lifetime battle.

Most of you are probably surprised to hear that I do any physical activity at all based on my overall appearance. (That sentence is going to piss off my husband - sorry, babe). It's not much of a secret that I have image issues. I'm the one that will bitch you out for tagging me in a facebook photo if I haven't given the thumbs up. I'm incredibly sensitive when it comes to horrible photos. I am constantly cropping out my arms, my forehead and my torso and forever moaning about my double chin. Hey, what can you do? I am willing to bet that 82% of you readers are almost as obsessed as I am. (I suck at math so we're not actually going to calculate that).

I don't know that I'll ever be satisfied with my appearance. I do know that I'll always have to workout in order to keep the rest of Auntie Rosie at bay. Overall, I'm incredibly thankful to be healthy - that's really all that should matter. And all the bitching and moaning about the lunging and squatting just comes with the territory. It's just always going to be that way. I'm never going to hop out of bed, hear the birdies chirping in the sun's warm rays and say, "I'm gonna go for a jog!"
*It is worth noting that if I should ever do that, it's a pretty good sign that I'm having a stroke so react appropriately.

Maybe I should shut up

It is such a humbling experience when you are complaining about the annoyances or the bad luck that seems to be plaguing your life and you are met with tales of actual tragedy, health problems and horror. I find I am constantly reminding myself that It Could Always Be Worse. Maybe our financial situation isn't as desirable as we'd like for it to be. Maybe my dog is a HUGE pain in the ass (as I have even less tolerance for him since having Scarlett). Maybe one of our cars needs repairs, maybe I feel like I don't have enough quality time with my husband, maybe I feel overwhelmed by the amount of friends and family that want to see the baby. Maybe I LOATHE my street and everyone on it. Maybe I should shut up. Maybe I should watch the news and see men, women and children suffering and dying in the streets, no one to care for them. Maybe I should listen to a friend tell me that she recently learned she has cancer. Maybe I should realize that people are being put out of their homes for various reasons every single day. Maybe I should see my friend's heart filled with sadness because her dog is ill.

I'm not an ingrate. I'm not taking things for granted. I'm just guilty of forgetting sometimes. Forgetting that people have it far worse. Forgetting that I could so easily have it far worse.

I am thankful for everything I have. I am so blessed to be married to my soul-mate and to have a beautiful daughter that I couldn't have dreamed to be any more perfect. I'm thankful for the good health of my family. I'm forever indebted to my mother, who has bent over backwards to help me US in every single way she possibly can. I'm thankful for our home, which may come with a ridiculously high mortgage and may not be sitting on the most desirable street in the world but it's OUR home and it's filled with love.

I need to continuously remind myself to make my problems smaller. In the big scheme of things - what's a car repair? What's a barking dog? What's a few credit cards? Nothing. A mere drop in the ol' crap bucket. If you have your health, you have it all, baby. And as long as I have my health I'm going to live happily. So cheers to our years!