Thursday, July 24, 2014

Workin' on My Fitness

As you may have noticed (and wisely not pointed out), I gained a bit of weight in my first year of service. Based on the very few times I've stepped even close to a scale (by force of doctors appointments), I gained at least 15 pounds in the first 9 months (hashtag freshman fifteen). I could inundate you with a slew of excuses about the stigma of independence in this country, the mounds of rice, or the lack of friends with whom I could be active, but I'll save that drama for my momma. It basically boils down to comfort. Outside of my bubble, my safety net, my comfort zone, the one thing that never fails to make me happy is good eats.

I know myself and this habit is not going away. I'm not going to lie to you or myself and pretend to diet. In general, I eat fairly healthy. When I'm in control of my meals (not invited out for a fried pig lunch or an afternoon coffee with 4 tablespoons of sugar included), I choose lots of veggies, quinoa, and white meat. I drink green tea with no sugar, and fruit at snack time. But then there are those days. (Just one of them days that a girl goes through.) The day when disappointment or homesickness strike and my consolation is to binge like it's my last day on Earth. Or I've just finished a particularly stressful session with 6 year-old's and my body tells me the only possible reward is at least 2 handfuls of chocolate.

Those days aren't going away and neither are my cravings. So, once I moved into my own apartment, I figured the only way to balance out all this emotional eating is with exercise. I got serious at first and dropped enough poundage to fit into some of my dress pants again by Christmas but then my motivation petered out when I got back here and the distance was once again an issue. But honestly, I've never been a "fit" person. I've never liked the gym. Running is okay but I really have to force myself to do it. I ran track in high school but I chose short distances for a reason. Sports can be fun but I'm not good at them and I'm not competitive, especially not with myself. I've never felt the need to be good at physical activity. Looooved the kickball league but that was mostly for the beer and friends.

I'm pretty much like:

 Now that I have a reason to exercise, it can be pretty ridiculous. So I've created a list of some of my thoughts while exercising. Here's a guide to fitness by a girl who's unfit:

-First of all, if you were a fly on the wall, judging by the noises, you'd think it was an exorcise rather than exercise...
-They're called burpees because first you burp, then you vomit because they're hard.
-They call them mountain climbers because if you do them for more than a minute, you want to throw yourself off a mountain.
-Jumping jacks. If I met Jack, I'd punch him.
-Russian twists because well, Russians are evil and enjoy torture.
-Sometimes I see photos of some fit girl with this t-shirt that says "this is why I squat" on the back with an arrow pointing to her butt. But when I think of squats, I think of squat toilets and that shirt means something completely different. It's shitty. (Pun intended.)
-Crunches. I'd rather be crunching some potato chips.
-V-ups. Yeah, up yours.
-If I succumb to the pressure to plank, the entire time I'm planking, I'm shaking so bad it makes me think my body isn't up to earthquake standards.

So there you have it. It's not pretty. To be clear, I'm not living the cliche of trying to achieve some media-driven, unattainable, stick thin body. I don't want a thigh gap and I like having a booty. I just want to go back to enjoying looking at myself naked. Oh and because I'm so flat chested, if I even have a little pudge in the belly region, it sticks out farther than my boobs and (rude) people start asking if I'm pregnant. I'd like that to stop as well. And I would like to ban them from talking to me like what happened to this 4 year-old:

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/conn-boy-4-mom-banned-doughnut-shop-article-1.1877800

All in all, I'm always comfortable in my skin, but self-improvement is never a bad thing.

Tonight I did this little workout:
To a soundtrack including Shakira, JayZ, Daddy Yankee, and Taking Back Sunday among others. I always time my playlist so that right after the workout is over, 2 or 3 of my jamz come on (usually something by Lil Jon) and I dance around the living room for 10 minutes as a cool down. It gives me something to look forward to while I'm shake-planking. Then I stretch for 10 minutes in the company of the Avett Brothers or Jason Mraz. And then my brain's all "release the endorphins!" and I'm all "ahhhhh" and I lay on my yoga mat for another 10 minutes. Kinda like:

This isn't meant to be motivational or some kind of before/after story. I'm merely chronicling another facet of my unique life here. If I was really trying to get all motivational on you, I'd post something like:
Nahhhh not really, I'd probably be like:
Sweet son of a six pack!!! Geez. Now that is motivation. But I'm not motivating you. Unless you count the calories you burned while giggling! Okay, that's enough memes for one post.

Okay one more...
Hehehehe

Talk at you soon, friends. Thank you for reading.