Seriously though, I am a just a wee bit nervous these days. My sister's wedding is coming up in less than a month, and I made the potentially fatal error of ordering my (maid of honor) dress a full size smaller than I currently wear. Which means its time to bring my A game.
No more cookie binges. Though, in the interest of not feeling deprived and going over the edge, I have decided to allow myself an additional (small/reasonable) weekly treat.
The theory being that optimism and masochism are two sides of the same (very thin) coin.
Day 23: I'm Bringing Sexy Back
I'm down six pounds. My jeans are loose. I feel amazingly strong and energized. And the most beautiful stranger just asked me out for coffee!
It has been such a long time since a real live human being (I'm an online dating refugee, but anyone with Photoshop and a pulse can get action there), without a criminal record (here's hoping), or foot fetish (yes, really) has tried to pick me up, that I didn't actually realize I was being hit on until the window of opportunity had long passed.
Which bring me to this: I've still got it!
(Though "it" is seriously craving some New York Super Fudge Chunk).
Day 15: Trainers are the New Bartenders
My trainer (words I never imagined uttering -- thanks, Gold's!) Osa is the best thing to happen to me since Spanx.
Not only does the man make having my butt kicked feel like a good time, but he has managed to teach me the beauty and power of simply standing up straight.
My already poor posture -- a holdover from a shy childhood -- became noticeably worse during this (very difficult) year. In some ways, my neck and shoulders became the cradle for all the unexpressed pain associated with my divorce. And though I've done quite a bit of healing, the body has a memory...or so I'm told.
But now, every time I step foot in the gym, Osa gently (OK, not always so gently) admonishes me to hold my head up and shoulders back. In fact, we don't begin until I do.
And though at first it made me terribly self-conscious, I now find that I simply feel better when I straighten up. Something inside releases. I breath deeper and feel more present.
The strange thing is every time we do an exercise that strengthens that area, I find myself smiling. Even when it's HARD. Especially when it's hard. I think this unnerves him a bit. It unnerves me a bit too. But I like it.
Oh, and according to Osa I have mad potential and good musculature. Which I'm pretty sure is trainer-speak for no mercy, no surrender.
Day 11: The Biggest Loser
Despite all my chirpy self talk the other day (I ate the cake ya'll), I am having a hard time hitting my stride, finding equilibrium.
Trouble balancing my need to be OK with how I look right now (not helped by the colony of perfect women who apparently *live* at Gold's Gym, only exiting to buy hair products and get their belly buttons pierced) with my need to PUSH.
Trouble balancing my inconsistent work hours (evening and weekend performances and events) with my need for a consistent (the only way this will become a permanent change) workout schedule.
Trouble balancing my need for on-the-run meals with my need to explore food groups that don't come wrapped in cellophane.
Trouble balancing my need to get my burn on with my need to not wear spandex in public!
Which is not to say I'm not down for the cause. I'm SO down for the cause!
But I'm also... a little down.