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Monday, November 23, 2009

I Wanna Get Physical

Last year, after sitting around eating slice after slice of brie on a cracker biscuit, and indulging regularly on chocolate cake for morning tea and meat pies for lunch, I started to think that perhaps these acts were not assisting me in losing the extra weight I was carrying after the birth of Son No. 3.

Not that I was what you would call 'overweight'. In fact, I really wasn't sure what my weight was back then, because I had broken the scales at the end of my second pregnancy. Oops. But I certainly was a far different body shape than what I had been after my first two sons were born. And, yes, of course, your body is never quite the same after your first child. The hips widen, and all of that. But I had bounced back in to shape fairly quickly after the first two. But not with my third.

My mother's words were constantly ringing in my ears during this time: "It's the third one that does it. There goes your body!" Aaaagh!

And then one day, waiting around in a store whilst my children were fitted for ski hire equipment, I noticed some scales and thought I'd check out my weight. *Gasp!* I was the heaviest I had ever been. EVER. Well, except when I was pregnant.

I've always been very fortunate with what I'm quite certain is a high metabolism, and therefore I don't gain weight easily. In fact, when I was younger the weight problem I had was trying to put weight on. Which all sounds rather "lucky" to you no doubt, but to be honest, I wasn't happy with my weight at all. I hated being thin, and getting called "skinny" was, well, a whole other post I will do some time.

Bottom line: to suddenly be carrying weight I didn't naturally shift through my "good genes" was unusual. And so, around October last year, I decided enough was enough. I was sick of my clothes not fitting and looking at myself in the mirror and not seeing 'me'. I had to do something about it.

Hubby had bought a treadmill years prior, but had started commuting on his bike to work a lot more, therefore, utilising his commute as his 'work out'. He wasn't using it. And because I wasn't using it either, he started talking about selling it. I decided it was time to get on the darn thing and walk.

And so, I started walking for 30 minutes a day, 5-6 times a week. To be honest, I wasn't certain that doing such a small amount of exercise would make much difference, but figured it would be a good start. I also reduced the amount of crap I was eating (but no diet - I don't really believe in them. Just eating the right foods, drinking lots of water, getting adequate exercise - things I should do more of myself), and before too long, I started to notice the benefits. So did my Hubby and my friends.

I also felt great. I had much more energy and could make it through the day far easier and required less sleep. I started to crave the exercise, and should I miss out for some reason or another, I felt anxious to fit in a walk at some other time. I wasn't obsessed by any stretch of the imagine. I just had a healthy joy for my new found fitness.

Then towards the end of last year, I got busy. I took a role on the school's P&F committee and threw myself in to it. Then it was school holidays, Christmas, and well, before I knew it 6 months had passed, and apart from a couple of workouts on the treadmill and the odd walk here and there with the dog and/or 2 year old, I wasn't doing my regular exercise routine.

And then I had the realisation the other day that it had probably been about a year since I'd stuck to my exercise regime. But the real clincher, was when the warm weather arrived, and I pulled out some favourite shorts of mine that I had finally been able to wear at the end of last year - comfortably - and pulled them on to find I couldn't even get the top two buttons done up. That's the first time that's ever happened. *Sigh*

Then yesterday, I read a post on Natelle Archer's blog - Quest for My Best Life - about her same desire to get back in to shape (read that here), and well, that was the final catalyst I needed to do something about this lack of exercise = lack of energy I've been experiencing as of late.

I'm getting back on the treadmill people. I am! It's time. I'm not getting any younger, and it's not going to get any easier, so here I go. I vow that by the end of January, I WILL fit in to my favourite shorts. I will. And I will keep you 'posted'. You can count on that.

I'll, um, start tomorrow. Promise.

Until next time...


Anonymous said...

Here, here. I love a nibble of brie and a cup cake or twenty. Winter saw me break out all the lovely hot pots and roast chicken dishes. Now I'm getting back on the Pilates train. One week in and I'm feeling better already. I'm right behind you Missy..let's go.

Tara (Waffling Along)

Ami said...

I wish I could get that motivation! As you have read on Puff, I just don't do exercise! Instead I went up a size in Country Road the other night! Look forward to reading how you go!

Good luck :) xx

jessica bern said...

What motivates me is fiinally being able to wear clothes I'd always wanted to wear and to help conquer my depression. It makes my day so much better. I work out 4x's a week and I find that it keeps me sane You can do it.

Jodie at Mummy Mayhem said...

I think it's true that exercise promotes happiness. (Go endorphins!) I definitely felt better all round last year.

Thanks for dropping by Jessica!

Thea said...

Ditto, ditto, ditto, ditto!!
I'm blogging my journey from Fat to Fit. Not sticking to it very well. Must try harder!!

Nova said...

oooh- I've started and stopped so many times in the last six months. Right, I am now reminded of the redundant cross trainer and SHALL go and use it.

Katy said...

Exercise definitely makes you feel better, and benefits with a better body shape! Number 3 definitely changes EVERYTHING more than the 2 before though!