For the 4 of you who are interested, my exercise class has just come to an end. Yep, 9 weeks of hauling my tush and my diaper bag and my two children to a church gym twice a week are over. I will no longer be crunching and kick boxing and pilateing and jogging for an hour on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.
After taking my post workout shower today, I tried on a pair of jeans that I wore when Seth was a year old. I can put them on, slide them over my hips, and button them. And they are ridiculously tight and uncomfortable….
It’s hard for me to accept that this is probably as good as its going to get. I worked out twice a week, and I probably lost a little weight, definitely got toned, and enjoyed the break from the munchkins for an hour.
But…. really…. this is as good as it gets? After all that? And I still can’t even really get back in the jeans I wore AFTER SETH? I didn’t think I was asking for the moon here. Looks like I was…
Its hard not to be angry and disappointed about that.
I’m not willing to put any more work into it than I already have. I’m not willing to eat nothing but nuts and raw vegetables. I’m not willing to give up my Dr. Pepper. So there ya have it… its over. I’ve lost. Defeat tastes bitter.
But I’ll live. And the little face above was worth the loss of my flat stomach and my small behind.
And, since I now know how easy it is to lose ground and I don’t want things to get any worse, I’ll be exercising once a week probably for the rest of my life. Step class starts in July…
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