You're going to want to stop but keep going.

If you have health, you probably will be happy, and if you have health and happiness, you have all the wealth you need, even if it is not all you want.  

~Elbert Hubbard

Lack of activity destroys the good condition of every human being, while movement and methodical physical exercise save it and preserve it. 

~Plato

Day 6: Zumba with the Granny Posse

So today while shaking "it" in my zumba class I got called out. My instructor points at me, and like I was a grade schooler again get asked to see her after class. Oh crap am I messing up that bad? Am I so appalling that I am going to need further instruction? These questions raced through my mind as I completed gyrating my tail feathers. So what the hell could the mistress of torture want? No, I really do like my instructor but during class while I am sweating and thinking "why the hell am I doing this?" I am also contemplating all the evil thing I would like to befall her. As soon as class is over though we are all peaches and gravy.

So instead of going directly to the childcare I stay behind rolling over everything that could be wrong. As she approached I took a hard swallow and prepared to defend my graceless self. "I'm doing the best I can" I repeated over and over in my mind. As I am a somewhat decent writer I can't say the same when I am talking to newer people. I often would like to use the excuse that English is not my first language. So I stood waiting for "it" and we talked.

I will say this about myself that I do have a VERY over active imagination so a plethora of scenarios were playing out in my brain. I am ashamed to say that I did go through a praying mantis-esque play by play. My head was devoured and no one was the wiser. That did not happen thankfully. She pretty much laid it out that she wanted to see me push myself a bit harder. She thought I could be doing more. By that she said the dreaded words that no fluffy person who is new to exercise wants to hear... Abs blaster. Oh yes thirty minutes devoted to that squishiest of squishy areas. Yes, she wants me to attend twice a week and then go to the spin class that follows. WHAT!!! I am already terrified enough of going to spin and making a total mockery of myself. Now she wants me to pre-nastified and heaving from this.

I have observed Abs Blaster from the comfort of the childcare room and it is crazy! Not "girl you so crazy" (add a snap and a head wag if you wish), no it is the locked up writing on the walls with feces kind of crazy. Those brave souls in there are nuts! Somehow though this little ray of sunshine and lollipops thinks I can do this.  

As I collected my jaw off the floor and put my eyes back in there sockets, I prepared to protest. What the fuck is tip toeing through her perky little mind? I can't do that! I barely keep up with the blue-haired foxes in my class! As I prepared to come to my defense my instructor cut me off before I could speak. She must have known I was going to try and argue. "All right then I will see you tomorrow" and with a tinker bell like "poof" she was gone. I did feel like I received a gold star on my forehead, but I am also tentative as well. 

So what the old me would do is disappear from the gym until no one remembered me, and I could sneak in unrecognized. Well actually the old me would not have a gym membership. Instead I would be continuing the passionate menage et trois between the couch, the TV and myself (sometimes adding the increasingly risqué fourth of junk food).  I am (at this very moment) battling myself. I want to be healthy and fit, I want to feel good about myself. I don't like sweating. I don't like being sore. I am ripped in half at what seems like a trivial matter. I also have all day and night to think about this though since the hubs is away and the mind will play.Trust me I am not a stranger to summoning strength. I am not afraid of difficult tasks... That are inside my comfort zone. Exercise is outside my comfort zone.

So this is my rallying cry. I am going to do it! I am going to walk right into that Ab blaster class and do what I can. I may be passed out in a pile of goo at the end but at least I can try. I will then gather up my goo and get to spin class. I am biting the bullet! In an effort to be more prepared for this I have dinner ready for the crock pot tomorrow. The littles lunch already prepared, and Bengay at the ready. I am trying to be optimistic that I am being dumb and working myself up for nothing. I am no athlete so this is foreign territory all this healthy lifestyle stuff.

So with that a little  inspirational music to pump me up!

And then life happened.

The word aerobics came about when the gym instructors got together and said, "If we're going to charge $10 an hour, we can't call it jumping up and down."  

~Rita Rudner

 

An hour of basketball feels like 15 minutes.  An hour on a treadmill feels like a weekend in traffic school.  

~David Walters

So as much as I would like to regale you with my epic story of spin class... it didn't happen today. I don't like to blame things on my kids but unfortunately today it was my babies little right ear that squished my exercise plans for today. However, I will be back in the gym tomorrow barring any other further calamities.

So if any of you are familiar with health insurance it is a pain in the ass to say the least. Well military health insurance adds a few extra levels of exacerbation . Causing a large boil already festering on top of a large hemorrhoid. Too vivid? Needless to say I am slightly irritated. I am grateful to have it but at times it is really hard to be grateful while bashing ones head against a brick wall. So for pretty much the good part of yesterday afternoon it was me playing nice trying to prove that yes I had had a baby (I don't think I imagined it), and yes he needed to be seen promptly (because my imaginary baby would not feel pain). Sorry but I would not lie about popping out a small one just so I can steal some more insurance money. They apparently think I have this deep seeded desire to hang out in doctors offices just so I can squeal "psyche" when the physician enters and run away in a pile of maniacal laughter. No, I have the baby and the stretch marks to prove it.

So anyways, once I finally got all the bull pocky sorted out and proved indeed my baby did exist I was stuck with the last appointment space they had available this morning. But my poor little was in some discomfort and the only time I could get him into his new doctor was  smack dab right in the middle of spin class. I won't lie part of me was a little relieved, as I am quite hesitant about spinning since needless to say I am not the most fit nor graceful of  people. This fear is being vanquished since I will be climbing on the bike this Thursday to pop the spin class cherry. If I am able to sit that afternoon I will tell you about it.

Yes today was one of those days where I just couldn't shirk the mommy duties. I am glad to say though that the little is fine and we will probably be heading into teething soon (Joy!). Even though the gym was not a possibility today, I will still fit in a workout via video. As much as I very much dislike to exercise with the kids around. It is not them it is just my utter lack of coordination that usually ends in tears be it the children or myself. Add to together clumsy mommy and perpetual moving children and it ends in disaster.  As I attempt to follow the steps I tend to maim them or I fall on my ass trying to dodge them. I nearly broke the coffee table last time trying to avoid such a scenario with the two year old. Picture Chris Farley as Matt Foley and you can get a nice image of my situation. 

Don't get me wrong I love my littles and while the hubs is deployed my only real time to myself is when I am at the gym. So yes when I don't get my gym time I get a bit moody (that's a nice way of saying bitchy). The classes might be utter torment at times causing all sorts of maladies but they are MY time. My one hour where I can clear my head and be Jules and not just mommy. Even with the thudding music, the large group of adults, and the instructor (who is pumped with prozac and endorphins I believe) there is a sort of zen to the whole experience. I am not chasing down anyone or trying to breastfeed while under the investigative eye of toddlers.

So tomorrow is a Zumba day and I will be shaking it with the granny posse. There is nothing like hearing someone my grandmothers age singing along to Christina Aguilera's  "Candyman". It is frightening and funny all at the same time.

So instead of sitting here on my laurels I am going to leave you now and get my rear in gear.

Day 5: Bollywood workout video.

I know most of us have seen this but in the falling into things and breaking them spirit here ya go!

Lessons to live by...

 One should eat to live, not live to eat.  

~Cicero, Rhetoricorum LV

Day 4: Step Class and other adventures. (My couch and I had a weekend affair.)

The day had started like any other but, as I stood prostrated over the porcelain thrown I took a moment to reflect on what had just transpired in the last ten minutes.

1. I really wish the Mansfield that invented this toilet was related to the Mansfields in my family. I could totally rock the potty princess heiress thing.

2. One should never eat breakfast immediately before a step class.

Confused? If you are not then that's right boys and girls this mommy blew chunks at the gym. So besides dripping sweat, being red in the face from exercise I was also vomiting which won me the "sexy award" today. Unfortunately the award is given with looks of disgust like I just punched a puppy on Yo Gabba Gabba.

Seriously though I was trying to be better to myself and making sure I ate a healthy breakfast before working out. Well shoving the breakfast into my face five minutes before class was my downfall and I ended up literally flushing my good intention down the loo. I swear any time I try to do myself a solid it backfires. I am sure many of you can empathize with that statement. Murphy's law never stings more than when applied to treating oneself nicely.

So there I was really pushing myself in step class, when suddenly like a seasick looney tune I was running for the bathroom. I am proud of myself that after the little episode I returned to class and finished. What can I say 3 kids and bouts of morning sickness I know how to function after dysfunction. It's a gift really, I am so lucky... no?

All an all though the class was a success I feel it now and am guessing this is the "burn" I want. Next time though breakfast at least an hour before so that there will be no further entertainment provided by yours truly. The old swimming myth holds true at least with step class. I promise you I am not as stupid as this mistake makes me sound. I truly have diagnosed "Mom" brain and it causes me to do truly idiotic things that are out of my control.

Tomorrow I am going to try a spinning class. I am not sure how I feel about it but there is no use fearing it.  I should just go for it and take the plunge.

When incentive becomes bribery.

As I am a self proclaimed Facebook addict, I noticed one of my very dear friends had posted this question:

"When does incentive become bribery?"

I am asking myself this question this morning. I feel that the incentive of this journey I have undertaken is to be healthier and a better more energetic parent. My dream is to be one of those couples (that now I say make me vomit but actually I am just green with envy) out in there jogging finest with my hubs. Running like happy gazelle across the Serengeti.  I am absolutely envious of the moms pushing their kids along in their jogging strollers running away like mile is nothing. While I am walking at a snails pace just trying to make it to the playground. With drips upon drips of sweat flowing down the crack of my ass like Niagara (thanks Robin Williams!). Baby steps, baby steps, I know, I know, and someday I can make the dream happen as long as I work on it. I mainly want to be healthy and fit for life. Eventually one day the hubs and I will be in matching wind suits power walking (consequently getting made fun of by the young sarcastic types like myself) when we are old, living in heavens waiting room a.k.a Florida. 

The bribery however... Is the chance to shop. Oh GAWD! I am a shopaholic! I do not jest when I say I used to have a vanity license plate that said "Mall rat". In my youth I could be found there at all times. So good bribery on this quest is the new and fab-tastic clothes I can look forward to. Because don't lie it is fun to feel fabulous! On a side note; When I moved to the south I was so disheartened when I found the malls were for function only. Window shopping just isn't the same at a functional mall. OK back on topic (I have "shiny syndrome" bad!). My current wardrobe, well I should say uniform consists of black shirts and jeans. It's what fits and what I feel masks my body the best. As to not offend innocent on lookers. My hope is to have a wardrobe that would be Tim Gunn's wet dream and make Heidi Klum swoon (yes I am a Project Runway fan... big time). So I think that is my interpretation of this question. I can bribe myself to lose weight if it means I can get some new clothes. Shallow yes, effective we will see.

Now I have a question for my readers: What do you think of the Couch to 5k? I am curious about it give me your thoughts please.

Day 3: Zumba class as long as Baby boy cooperates at the gym child care (fingers crossed)

And for shits and giggles a fun moment from Project Runway!

The temple of doom A.K.A the drive thru

In the Middle Ages, they had guillotines, stretch racks, whips and chains.  Nowadays, we have a much more effective torture device called the

bathroom scale. 

~Stephen Phillips

Gluttony is an emotional escape, a sign something is eating us.  

~Peter De Vries

So with all this exercise and life changing I am trying to wrap my head around, I am now faced with dumping one of my greatest loves and comforts. Food, I love it especially the morsels that I know are bad for me. I do like to eat healthy and do almost every chance. I like to think that I am semi-crunchy with my eating and lifestyle but, I am not immune to the siren song of the drive thru. It's just so easy yell in to a box what you want, pay, eat. Best of all it is all done for you! No dishes, no menu planning, just grab and go. True I do feel guilty after imbibing this rubbish but I continue to do it. I could blame that I have 3 kids, my husband is gone, or just say I need the convenience. Most of the time I just don't want to get my lazy arse in the kitchen. I like many of you am a tired mommy. I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be much more conscious of what I stuff into my mouth. However like most of America I love love love fast food.

In fact I love Mcdonalds breakfast it is one of my weaknesses. Such perfect greasy little mouthfuls of fake egg and cheese. I can't help it!!! I wish my weakness was kryptonite, I can stand that and stay away from it with ease. But, when I have to see the Golden Arches each morning taking my daughter to and from school I can't help but hear this little voice in my head urging me to turn in so that I can have some gross deliciousness. I was able to pass the evil temptress today but I never know how strong I will be tomorrow. I try to always tell myself I am just getting a coffee but one thing leads to another... before you know it I am unhinging my jaw and deep throating a mcmuffin. Sorry for that mental picture.

A lot of my problem (and I am sure many of you moms and busy people can sympathize) is that I don't take the time to eat. By the time I get up at 5:30am nurse the baby, feed and dress the kids, get my self to some semblance of order, and try to skype with the hubs, it's time to go. Then  as I am dropping my eldest off my stomach starts to talk. No it really talks, in its lowest sultry temptress of a voice it cries out for the pleasure of a Mc-biscuit of some sort anything we are so hungry. It has been so bad that I have been guilty of pinching some of my kids goldfish out of their snack cups, just to quiet my hunger.  Since punching myself in the gut to shut the bitch up would be painful and pointless I usually give in to dark side.

But it is going to STOP! I am going to be strong I am going to flip the bird to the Mickey D's that is walking distance from my home. Screw you fast food and all your tastiness! I am going to take a stand to eat better and I hope anyone that wants to will join me!

Day 2: "Walk off the pounds" at home with the 2 year old (bet you wish you could have been a fly on the wall for that one. more like try no to walk on the child).

And because a little Eddie Izzard makes any day better.

So sorry Japan...

Day 1:
 

If M is the state space for the map ft, then ft displays sensitive dependence to initial conditions if for any x in M and any δ>0, there are y in M, with 0 < d(x,y) < δ such that d(fτ(x),fτ(y)) > exp(aτ)d(x,y).

Edward Lorenz

Other wise known as the "Butterfly effect"

No I am not talking about that god awful movie with Ashton Kutcher and the fat guy from My name is Earl, no I am  talking about the theory of chaos.

So if a simple flutter of a butterflies wings can cause a tsunami in another part of the world I hate to think what the shaking of my ass did in Zumba today. In advance I am sorry Japan. I cannot however, be blamed for yesterdays earthquake on the east coast so put your fingers down.

It was definitely exercise and I was definitely put to shame by all the grandmas that were shaking it and nailing every dance move. While I was staring in earnest at the trainer like a lost puppy trying my damnedest not to fall on my face. Will I do it again? Yes, even though at the end of the experience my face had the likeness of that of a baboon's butt. If you have ever seen a picture of a baboon's rear you will know how red it is. I do not suggest getting too close to the creature though, as they seem to have quite the plethora (love that word thank you 3 Amigos for introducing me to it in my youth!) of anger and aggression issues. But I digress...

So now the question going through my head is what other classes should I take? My gym has a plethora (squee) of classes but I am not sure which ones to jump into. I would like to have some fluffiness kicked out the door by this winter. I would like to surprise my hubs when he comes back at holiday time with a semi-appealing wife on his return. I would even like him to maybe utter "damn" in a good way?  Not in the fifth stage of fat way (see video below).

So if any of you lovely readers have suggestion for good classes pass them to this gal! Remember though I am a beginner. So at this time I think spinning may be out of the question as I fear where the bike seat may end up. I am simply being conscientious of the next rider.  So enjoy Mr. Iglesias and remember to leave a comment as I am looking for classes and... am a compliment whore.

The Beginning of the end.

Cryptic enough title?

Well I have to say that I am truly not the blogging type. When I see people in cafes or benches happily ignoring the rest of the world and typing away about themselves I usually mutter a profanity under my breath about being self absorbed or some other utterance  that I need not repeat... Well not right away.

I've decided to write this in rebellion against the fat, cottage cheese, double chin, and lard that has taken my body hostage and won't release it unless I give in to a bigger enemy... Exercise and the mistress Diet. I cringe a little at the words as I am the chunker that likes to think I am comfortable in my looks but truly I am just in denial of my wretched roundness.

It occurred to me the other day that I might have a slight issue of large when my eldest daughter was hugging me and said "Mama I love you so much". As a glutton of affection I asked "Why?". Her reply left me dumb struck and I think I blushed a little. "You are so squishy and soft and big". I was taken aback a bit since I have always been bigger but in my denial have never surrendered to the thought that I might actually be as big as my liar of a mirror shows.

So I have decided to take this mother on and show her that I too can join the ranks of MILF-dom. My ultimate goal is to be able to shop at regular stores and not have to purchase clothing that begins in "X". So I welcome you along for the ride and hope that together we can make this journey an entertaining one.

Tomorrow is Day 1, so if you hear of any Earthquakes in the crotch of America that would be me falling on my arse in Zumba... Courage.