Fat Girl

Well, here we go again. 

I'm back up to a weight I'm really uncomfortable with. And, more than that, my arms and legs have gotten waaaay too chunky and flappy. I get winded way too easily. I'm out. of. shape!

When my littlest was 4 months old, I joined the gym. I ate right and worked out hard, really hard, every day, for several months, and the results were incredible. I felt the best I had in years. I mean, YEARS! Probably since I cheered in High School. And maybe not even then. 

I liked the way I looked for the first time in over a decade.

Then, life happened. We moved way too far from the gym for me to go any more, and I fell off. I tried to Zumba in my living room, but my two toddlers underfoot made me INSANE. I ended up in tears every time. 

I gave up. I started a thousand times, and gave up a thousand times.  

I'm sorry, but puking is not acceptable. I hate that more than quitting.

I want to be fit. I want to be healthy. I don't even care about being skinny or muscular. I just want to FEEL healthy, and not winded, and for my arms and thighs to not be totally fat and flappy. That's not too much to ask, is it? 

Here is the thing.
I suck. 

I HAVE to have an accountability partner. I CAN NOT work out alone, or with toddlers underfoot. I can't do it. No matter how or what I try. Videos, creating Zumba or Hip Hop routines, little 5 minute workout things on Pinterest. Tried them all. Nope. I can't do it. (Yes, I'm limiting myself with the word "can't." I know it's taboo, but I also know myself. To do this is going to take an act of God, Who I will be relying on HEAVILY - pardon the pun - for this beginning of a healthy life for me and my family. Forever.)

Basically, the only way I can exercise is while my kids sleep, or if they're with me (bike riding or something), or if I have a childcare gym. 

All of the above I had before. And I don't anymore. And I'm having to dig deep.... I mean really, really deep, to start back up again. I know how and what to eat, but the exercise thing just KILLS me. 

I know the pain it brings. I know the dedication. I know the time I will have to put in to it. I know how tired I will be. And it intimidates the CRAP out of me. I did it before. And it was HARD.

See? They know it's hard, too.

On top of it, my feet are bad - the screw in my right one causes me severe problems, especially with weather change. A screw. In my foot. So, yeah, that.

My knees are bad. I had to go to physical therapy in H.S. because the cartilage was already deteriorating. Now, it's basically nonexistent and causes me incredulous pain and problems. They give out on me all. the. time. when I exercise. 

And, my back is bad. I've thrown it out a dozen times, and it is weak. I know that will be cured with strength training, but it will be a while. 

The feet and knee things, however, do not go away. I can't run. But I can speedwalk like a mother. Because I am a mother, of course... So, I'll speedwalk. 

Then Aimee Mullins comes along and I'm all "Oh, I can't run. My feet hurt..."

Oh, and just as a sidenote, why does every single inspirational workout photo on Pinterest or anywhere else feature a muscle woman or tiny little fit girl in panties? I'm so sure. Working out does NOT look like that. It looks like chubby girls sweating and red-faced. Not pretty, but whatever. And if I ever work out in boy shorts that ride up my butt, slap me. That's just gross. 

I mean, seriously? Seriously. WhatEVER!

I know it sounds like I'm making excuses. I know I sound whiny. 

And I am making excuses. And I'm whining. Why did I have to be born big? I'm not naturally skinny, and have never been thin. I do not WANT to have to exercise. I just want to be thin and healthy naturally. HAHAHAHAHH! Yeah. Right.

Don't get me wrong, I DO want to exercise. In all actuality, when I'm in the groove, I LOVE exercising. I love it. LOVE it. At my gym. With childcare.

But at my house, with my kids, and not in a group at a gym, and without weights... it is hell. I mean, bad. Really, really bad. And I hate it with a passion. 

I've even googled ideas for how to exercise with kids. And tried them. And I hate it. I need one hour to get healthy. Actually, two hours, because I have to get dressed, get them dressed and prepared, work out, then shower. Two hours a day? That's ridiculous. I'm going to have to start with 30 minute workouts until I get going. I do still walk with them, ride bikes, jump on the trampoline. But actually busting a sweat exercise... NOT going to happen. 

I just created this at someecards, just to solidify my point.

I WANT TO eat WHATEVER I want. It blows to have to plan and cook a separate meal for me and my family because, no matter how I try, they will NOT eat brussel sprouts. I have to cook good food for all of us, that they will still like. I have done this before, sort of. But I still end up cooking at least one meal a day that only I can or will eat. I have a very hungry husband whose options are limited all day (he's in a tractor and has no fridge or microwave. Soooo, there's that.), and little toddlers who are still forming teeth. Planning and executing meals for a age-gapped family of five...

That will be a very, very difficult task.

"I just wish people LIKED me." Said creepy Veggie Man.

Alas, starting tomorrow, I challenge myself. I will weigh myself, and measure myself, and see if maybe, just maybe, this blog can help me with accountability. Because otherwise, I'm screwed. 

I've already started trying to eat better, but in our current financial situation, that's near impossible. Pasta and potatoes are cheap. Good food is not. I've been eating salads and chicken, and shakes and such. But dang if I can't seem to just plan a week's worth of meals that are actually good. SCREW starving myself or eating bland, gross food. Life is too short. 

So, tomorrow, I'm starting. Not Monday. Not any specific date. Just tomorrow, because it's time. I will slip. I will fail. But I will get this right, and I will ultimately succeed. 

No HerbaLife (though I really wanted to try it. We were too broke, so I have to go the natural way). No gym with childcare (there isn't one around, and I can't afford childcare AND a gym membership). No caffeine pills (though I'm keeping my coffee.) No anything except this chunky girl, food, and exercise. 

I'm going to do something very disturbing here. I'm going to post my weight and measurements tomorrow. And a picture or two, which will hopefully be amazing "before" pictures someday.

It makes me want to throw up just thinking about posting any of it, but maybe that's what I need to do to inspire me.

I will be vulnerable and exposed. And I'll probably feel like I did in 8th grade when I got called fat and it ruined my self-esteem for like 15 years. (Lame, I know. But true. Teach your kids not to be jerks. If mine ever call someone fat, I'm shaving ugly designs into their heads while they sleep.)


All me. All in. No sucking in, no posing so my double chin looks smaller. No holding the camera up, facing down, for a more thinning and flattering photo. (But I'll spare you the butt-eating shorts, oiled-up photos that seem to be the norm for fitness photos these days...)
 
And maybe somewhere along the way I'll inspire someone else. Starting with my kids. 

The end. Of the beginning. 

Love, 
Gordita Blanca