I’m always up for something new. I am also currently a little unhealthily consumed with a desire to lose my 15 pounds of unnecessary midsection. It’s there, taunting me. I little handle of fat that encircles my waist like the world’s worst donut. Which is funny because I also currently have an addiction to Apple Cider donuts which is so not helpful. (But they’re so good it’s a crime NOT to eat them.) I often think that if only I could just grab that little handle of leftover pregnancy stomach and just scissor it off and stitch the ends back together, it’s be just fine. Sort of a do it yourself tummy tuck…. But I’ve not gone off the deep end so it’s diet and exercise obsession.
So this combination leads me to try new fitness moves, new healthy foods, and try to build new habits. That’s a good thing. I am working on my snacking habit at present and that’s a bitch. For 37 years I have been a bored snacker. Not doing anything Niki? Please rise and head straight to the kitchen there are some pita chips and hummus howling your name. Oh, you’ve folded 2 towels? That has earned you a handful of cheese crackers, clearly. Going to sit down and watch some football? You can’t do that without a bowl of Dorito’s. The snacking voice in my head is not drowned out by any other sound. She is louder even than the toddler who’s gone without sleep all day, got scratched by the cat and has just had the lego car removed from his hand by a sister. She’s that loud. So you can imagine the cacophony that goes on about 8pm when I have JT in bed and I have to sit down for the evening’s homework torture supervision. That is chip and hummus time and nothing can go on except chips and hummus. The last time I had to sit on my hands to control a habit, I was giving up my pack a day smoking habit. But I’m working on it.
Now, I am working on it, with the same enthusiasm that I did in 2010 when I was trying to get into “I’ve never had a baby” shape. I was really successful. Doing exactly what I’m doing now. I lost 2 sizes and 10 pounds in 2 months. It was fantastic. However, in the last 4 years I have crossed over to the metabolic dark side. This is a stage that no one warns you about, because there is no good way to say “At a certain time in a woman’s life, her body just decides it doesn’t give a shit anymore and is going to cling to every single calorie that comes into it, like a Titanic survivor to driftwood.” I’m not sure if we’re getting ready to hibernate. Building a cushion for the slide into skeletonism that happens when you become very elderly. Or if the obstinate youth I was has just carried over into my internal workings and they’re standing against the wall with arms crossed thinking “Screw you, I’m not moving any faster than this.” Whatever the reason, I’m not moving the numbers. It’s frustrating. So I’m upping my game.
Now today it means that I’ve chosen to sit on an large bouncy ball. Allegedly this is going to work my core and whatnot all day because I’m working muscles, just trying to stay upright.
NO FREAKING JOKE. It’s kind of fun, bouncing up and down here at my desk. But it’s kind of hard to keep my eyes trained on numbers when I’m bouncing up and down. I can’t roll from one end of the desk to the other. So I have to get up to do everything. My butt already hurts, so clearly I’m working those muscles. I keep remembering all the times I tried sitting or standing on my bouncy balls and my mother warned me that I’d bust my head open. My posture is fantastic. I may balance some books on my head later just for fun. I suppose I could really work it today and sneak in some crunches. But I’m not entirely sure that exercise ball injuries are covered under workman’s comp.
So this combination leads me to try new fitness moves, new healthy foods, and try to build new habits. That’s a good thing. I am working on my snacking habit at present and that’s a bitch. For 37 years I have been a bored snacker. Not doing anything Niki? Please rise and head straight to the kitchen there are some pita chips and hummus howling your name. Oh, you’ve folded 2 towels? That has earned you a handful of cheese crackers, clearly. Going to sit down and watch some football? You can’t do that without a bowl of Dorito’s. The snacking voice in my head is not drowned out by any other sound. She is louder even than the toddler who’s gone without sleep all day, got scratched by the cat and has just had the lego car removed from his hand by a sister. She’s that loud. So you can imagine the cacophony that goes on about 8pm when I have JT in bed and I have to sit down for the evening’s homework torture supervision. That is chip and hummus time and nothing can go on except chips and hummus. The last time I had to sit on my hands to control a habit, I was giving up my pack a day smoking habit. But I’m working on it.
Now, I am working on it, with the same enthusiasm that I did in 2010 when I was trying to get into “I’ve never had a baby” shape. I was really successful. Doing exactly what I’m doing now. I lost 2 sizes and 10 pounds in 2 months. It was fantastic. However, in the last 4 years I have crossed over to the metabolic dark side. This is a stage that no one warns you about, because there is no good way to say “At a certain time in a woman’s life, her body just decides it doesn’t give a shit anymore and is going to cling to every single calorie that comes into it, like a Titanic survivor to driftwood.” I’m not sure if we’re getting ready to hibernate. Building a cushion for the slide into skeletonism that happens when you become very elderly. Or if the obstinate youth I was has just carried over into my internal workings and they’re standing against the wall with arms crossed thinking “Screw you, I’m not moving any faster than this.” Whatever the reason, I’m not moving the numbers. It’s frustrating. So I’m upping my game.
Now today it means that I’ve chosen to sit on an large bouncy ball. Allegedly this is going to work my core and whatnot all day because I’m working muscles, just trying to stay upright.
NO FREAKING JOKE. It’s kind of fun, bouncing up and down here at my desk. But it’s kind of hard to keep my eyes trained on numbers when I’m bouncing up and down. I can’t roll from one end of the desk to the other. So I have to get up to do everything. My butt already hurts, so clearly I’m working those muscles. I keep remembering all the times I tried sitting or standing on my bouncy balls and my mother warned me that I’d bust my head open. My posture is fantastic. I may balance some books on my head later just for fun. I suppose I could really work it today and sneak in some crunches. But I’m not entirely sure that exercise ball injuries are covered under workman’s comp.
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