Call it What you Want

Why is it so hard to tell myself to put the computer or remote or whateverthehell else I'm doing that is sucking up my brain cells down and go downstairs for at least 20 or 30 minutes to work out? We've practically got an entire home gym down there. There's a television right in front of the treadmill. There is a complete stereo system down there. My iPod is FULL. It's not like I don't have something down there that could entertain me and keep my mind off of the fact that my muscles are going into anaphylaxis because I've convinced myself and my muscles that we must be allergic to physical activity. What else can it be?

Seriously, it sounds so good in my head when I say to myself that I'm going to go work out and I can envision myself down there doing it. I know how good I will feel afterwards because there for a short while I was actually doing it on a regular basis and it felt awesome to know that I was finally doing something for myself.

I have no excuse. Nothing that is valid anyway. I could work out in the mornings. A2 is a late sleeper but I don't do it. I choose to sleep in with him. I could do it in the afternoons when he takes a nap but I don't because I'd rather see who's doing who or what on TMZ or catch up on my blog reading. I could do it at night, which is my favorite time to work out, because A1 and hubby are here and can play with A2 but I'd rather sit up here and flip though the channels on the television about a billion times even though I know there AIN'T.NOTING.GOOD.ON.AT.ALL!! You know, the sad thing is that I can actually go down there at any point regardless of what A2 is doing because he is more than happy to watch Spongebob or play cars down there just as much as he is up here. I guess I'm just too good at making excuses.

It's not like I'm morbidly obese I jumped on the scale about 20 minutes ago and it said 142.2. That's not fat. My BMI says that I'm really in the normal weight range for my height. I could be happy at this weight if I really wanted to be but I don't. I set myself a goal and I want to reach it. My "happy weight" is between 125 and 130. I know I'm never going to look like the girls in the magazines and don't even care about that. I've got fat dimples on my ass and my boobs are not symmetrical. I have no muscle tone and I don't care. I just want my jeans to fit me without any overhang and so that I can actually exhale while wearing them. I've got a closet full, FULL, of clothes in there that I'm happy to say I'm gradually fitting back into but there are things that I wouldn't dare wear out in public because of the lumps and bumps. My husband has been WONDERFUL and supportive of me through this whole slump. He could care less how much I weigh as long as I give him a peak. He tells me I look beautiful to him but isn't he SUPPOSE to say that! I thought it came as part of the prenup.

I just don't get it. It's almost as if all the drive and ambition I have has been sucked out of me and to be frank, there really wasn't all that much there to begin with. A2 will be three in July and there is no excuse for me to still be over my prebaby weight. I'm tired of hearing myself whine and cry about it and you have to believe me when I say I really really really want to change. I just don't know how to make myself do it.

This isn't the only thing that I've dropped the ball on here lately. Hubby and I talked about me going back to school to get my Master's. He told me that we'd find the money somewhere but he thinks I should either go to work or go back to school. He can see that I'm getting a little antsy just staying home even though I love being here with the boys more than anything. I looked into finding a program online for a little while but I haven't checked back in over a month. I would LOVE to go back to school as long as I could do it over the Internet. I'm a computer junkie and I love to read and learn and I blazed through my last online classes. They work for me. It's just that my follow through is broken.

Oh well, maybe today will be the turning point. I never made it downstairs last night to work out. I know - real shocker there. I don't have anywhere to be until three this afternoon so maybe I can make myself feel guilty enough between now and then to do something. Work out, take the kids outside to play in the sludge, or maybe even look up some school information.

My honest to goodness thoughts on what will happen......I'll be doing good if I take a shower before I have to leave. I think I smell a touch of the depression creeping in. Welcome to my journey.