I shared my writing resolution with you for this year, but what I didn't tell you is that I made yet another resolution to lose weight and get in shape. I know, I know...not again. I have struggled with my weight my whole life, and I can't tell you how much money I have wasted on diets and exercise plans.
So how would this time be any different? That was my challenge. I was chatting with a friend on Facebook, and he said that the reason most people fail at weight loss (or other resolutions/goals with yourself) is that there are no consequences if you fail. If you don't lose weight, you just continue you on the way you are. No harm, no foul.
As a behavior analyst, this made sense to me. Obviously I'm not very good at changing my own behavior for an extended period of time, and maybe a negative consequence might be just the thing to motivate me (I've already tried promising myself good stuff - didn't work).
I gave it some thought, and told my Facebook friend that I would make myself wear a bikini this summer. If I lost the weight I wanted to and kept working out, I would look nice. If not...well... He thought that was a good start, but pointed out that I would be around family and friends, which might not be enough public humiliation to keep me honest. He upped the ante by challenging me to post a picture of me in my bikini on Facebook.
That gave me pause. If I failed, would I really post a blobby pic of me muffining out of a bikini on the internet for all to see? After some discussion, I finally agreed. He finished the conversation by simply saying "Done." That one word gave me the impression I had just made a pact with the devil.
He was right though. That deal has made me crazy obsessed with sticking to my diet. I was already in the gym four to five days a week with the kids for their P.E. requirement for home school, so I just had to add in the diet part. How tough could it be? Pretty damn tough apparently. While I'm not old, I'm not exactly young, so my body is hanging on to every ounce despite a strict diet. I knew I would need something more intense (translation: desperate).
Enter the Insanity Workout infomercial late one night when I couldn't sleep. Even though I had sworn not to spend money on stupid gimmicks, it seemed to be the answer I was looking for, pushing me to burn extra calories, and whipping my body into bikini shape.
I knew I was in trouble when I had a hard time making it through the fitness test yesterday. Today was the first real workout, and I was sucking wind during the warm up phase. Not good. Thank God I had been going to the gym since August, or I might likely have keeled over. There were incredibly toned men half my age literally crawling for their water bottles during the short breaks. I thought "Insanity" referred to the intensity of the workout. What it really means is: If you aren't a personal trainer, aerobics instructor, or professional athlete, you have to be out of your damned mind to do this.
Normal people don't jump like this without a trampoline.
It isn't natural.
I made it through the first day. It wasn't pretty, but I survived. However, I forgot to figure in my other gym commitments. I talked my husband into joining the gym this month. I told him that I would go with him in the evenings when he got home from work and on weekends. Add that to taking the kids every morning during the week. Not so bad, but then I added in the Insanity Workout. Perhaps I didn't really think this through. I'm going to have to pace myself. The thought of working out once a day is daunting, much less three times. I don't want to end up looking like this in my bikini:
Not sure this is a chick. Could just be a dude on steroids
with shrunken junk and impressive pecs.
Thanks to months at the gym, I'm not as sore as I would have been, and I'm seeing the reappearance of muscles I forgot I had. I'm going to try and stick with it. No pain, no gain, right? Stay tuned :)