Smiling... and meaning it.

I seriously need to get back to working out regularly. Now, do not take this to be an absolute declaration of intent. Knowing what I need to do and doing it are two very different things. But today I am just acutely aware of my lack of movement lately. I have been sick for a week and today I'm finally feeling rather like me again... only a big lump-like me. Just sitting around all day (other than a quick drive out to get lunch... but that included me sitting in a car and sitting at a table). My poor ass is getting all this work sitting. The rest of me needs some work.

The good side of being sick? I ate a lot less over the last 7 days. I had already begun to eat a little less. And this really kicked it into gear. I still ate... I don't ever starve myself. I just didn't have much of an appetite. Wouldn't it be nice if we just didn't have appetites all the time? Or all food tasted bland? Okay, so nice is an overstatement... I have missed my food tasting good... but it would be easier when it comes to not being a fat ass. :)

I look back before mom died. I was working out between 5 and 9 hours a week... depending on my mood. Every Saturday I got up and hit the gym for an hour of BodyPump followed by an hour of BodyFlow (weights and yoga). 2 hours! Every Saturday before noon! Now? Oooh... Saturday? I can sleep in. Lots of things have happened between then and now. I understand where I am. I don't judge where I am. But is it where I want to be? If I stay here then yes. If the answer is no, then I will have to make changes.

It's funny... I can so easily talk myself into eating something terrible for me because it will make me feel good for a little bit. But the fact is that working out makes me feel good too. At first for a little bit. And the more consistent I am the more I feel good. Yet it is so much tougher to talk myself into than a cup of ice cream. :)

Okay... this blog is really just for me to remind myself where I want to go. And maybe writing it is the first step... the step before the step. The steps leading back to my favorite version of me... the athlete. I love her. She smiles, and she means it.