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Sunday, January 5, 2014

Look! I'm a cliche!



Check it: I'm a mommy-blogger who has made a New Years resolution to finally lose the rest of that baby weight.  Go ahead, put on your unsurprised face and go find something better to do than continuing to read this post.  Because you've probably read it before.  

Here's the thing about me, I have never been and will never be a Size 2.  My Beyoncé-scale booty and thighs are deeply rooted in my genetic code, as is my resentment for naturally skinny bitches whose 24-inch waists have never once graced the inside of a gym.  And I think I'm finally sort of okay with that.

As a woman who dabbles heavily in feminism, I officially believe that you are more -- so much more! -- than what the scale reads. I believe we should judge each other on the quality of our characters rather than the size of our asses.  I believe our society is stuck in a very damaging vacuum that worships starving, sex-ified stick figures who bombard us from all media outlets and literally 'pop up' uninvited on our computer screens.  

And when I say 'damaging,' I mean damaging.  

I was raised by socially-conscious adults who constantly reminded me that the most important thing I could put on my face was a smile (vs lipstick) and responded to comments regarding my childhood 'cuteness' by insisting that I was also very smart.  But alas, I have still had my fair share of 'I'm a whale' meltdowns, reducing me to a pile of self-conscious tears and overwhelming self-hatred.  All that positive self-esteem building couldn't stand up to the Seventeen magazine covers, petite blonde pop stars, and top heavy MTV dating show hosts (yup, that damn McCarthy woman has been ruining America for decades now).  Our culture is riddled with women -- beautiful ones! -- who are plagued by the fact that they'll never win America's Next Top Model but still spend their days judging themselves and others (albeit, less harshly) as if we were all contestants.  

All of these astute observations aside, I also believe in physical health.  As a healthcare professional, I am a firm believer that our bodies should be treated with respect.  Unless you feel strongly about reincarnation, we only get one chance at this life and only one vessel to host us as we plow through it.   Doesn't it just make sense then to take good care of that vessel?  

Confession time: I have recently been taking terrible care of myself.  At some point between Halloween and the middle of November (AKA the start of To Hell With It Season) I decided I just didn't care anymore.  I was too tired, working too much, too stressed, too busy preparing for the holidays, and just too damn weak-willed to stand up to the power of baked goods, fried decadence, and salty snacks. My exercise frequency plummeted and soon whole weeks would pass between workouts.  By Christmas morning, the waistbands of my pants were working overtime to contain my belly and my overall mood was at a level normally reserved for burrowing earthworms.  It didn't take much for a passing killer cold virus to strike down my weakened immune system sometime between Christmas and the New Year.  

That's when it dawned on me that it was time to take action. 

And so, in honor of my (admittedly predictable) new resolve, I have set some goals and some preliminary ground rules for myself and would love to take this opportunity to share each: 

Goal #1: Lose 8 lbs by my birthday.  In six weeks, I'll be 32 and I would prefer to be sitting comfortably under 160 lbs when I can finally crack a beer to celebrate the onset of another year of life (have been pregnant for the past two birthdays). 

Ultimate Goal:  Wedding weight (145) by our summer beach vacation in mid-July. 

Most Important Goal: Feel good about the choices I am making every day to rediscover my healthiest, happiest self.  

Current weight (as of January 2): 165.8

Rules and regulations:

1.  Write it down: Losing weight is simple math.  When calories in are fewer than calories out, the pounds will go packing.  Historically, my diet is best managed when I am holding myself accountable by logging every bite.  Time to take control.  Time to write that shit down.  I even dusted off and updated the ol' Weight Watchers App. 

2.  Paleo when possible: Fundamentally, I don't buy into fad diets.  However, some of my dearest friends have adopted the 'Paleo Diet' over the past two years and they look fantastic.  After some light research, I am realizing that the principles of the diet make total sense and I am happy to go at least partially paleo.  

3.  Drink dammit:  Water is essential for so many reasons.  I need more of it in my life.  

4.  Set that alarm:  ...and beware the snooze button and pre-determined excuses.  I am significantly more likely to work out if I start before 6am so the alarm is essential.  I am *also* very likely to snooze or ignore the alarm altogether if I have prefabricated an excuse to do so (re: up too many times with the baby or have a long day of work ahead of me).  I must always remember that I will ultimately feel better for the entire day if the workout actually happens -- regardless of hours of sleep or hours at work. 

5.  Stay busy, but make time to eat.  The 'busy' part is necessary due to there being truth in the old adage: 'idle hands ... ' Lucky for me, I'm incredibly busy.  Still, I get myself in trouble when I leave the house with an empty stomach, work through lunch and come home famished.  It happens a LOT and generally results in an evening binge on the fattiest most unhealthy foods within reach.  

So, I may be a cliche.  I but I'm a cliche with a game plan and some serious determination.  

Look out 2014, this mama is gonna grab you by the balls and reclaim her former pants size, squat weight, and moderately damaged self-esteem.  

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