So Michelle and I took our 'before' pictures today. I have been feeling fairly good about the weight I've lost so far since my baby, and I've stayed pretty optimistic about losing the rest of it over the coming year. We took the pics, which didn't bother me since I'm not what you'd call shy.
And then I saw mine on the little camera screen.
I have a little farther to go than I thought. I told my husband about taking the pics, and he asked what I thought.
"Not so bad."
"No, really, what did you think? Come one, didn't anything come up for you?"
"Well, yeah. I'm bigger than I thought."
Hmmm. Even as I write this I tell myself that I've been losing the weight just fine. The part I liked the least, since we took front, back and side shots, are the backs of my arms. I'm surprised it wasn't my butt--maybe I'm starting to agree with my husband that my butt is sexy--but the backs of my arms are NOT SEXY. They have all of the breastfeeding mama fat on them right now. To be honest, I've never really liked the backs of my arms. Even when I was bowflex buff they never quite got to be as toned as I wanted them to be. I do like tank tops, though. Not skinny bra strap tanks, but the buff gonna go work on a car tanks (wifebeaters, but what do you call them when the woman wears them? Husband beaters?).
Later I meet Karl. That's another blog. He's going to be my new best friend, except that I pulled my back out in karate yesterday and couldn't even bowflex when mMichelle came over this morning. So, Karl will be my new best friend in the near future.
Showing posts with label bowflex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bowflex. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Family Her-Story
I guess I should commit to a target weight for the next year. I would really like to get back down to 145, which is where I felt like a hot mom and could do karate or haul rocks in my yard all day. Hmmm, I think I'll shoot for 140. I'm more interested in having a tight butt and guns. I like to wear tank tops and show off buff arms.
My last weigh-in on my dad's scale was 182. That gives me another 40+ pounds to go, which I think is possible but still a challenge for me. I'm only 5'1" and the charts say I'm supposed to weigh 118. At 140 I don't think I'll have anything else to lose but my boobs. Not willing to sacrifice those. I have an intimate relationship with Victoria's Secret that I'm not going to give up. And while I have a larger badonkadonk, I don't necessarily want to lose it. I just want it to look good.
Last night I showed Jenn and Michelle my dad's gym. He has his own personal work out equipment that rivals Gold's Gym (minus the treadmills--we don't do treadmills, we do karate). I grew up in a family that works out. Always have, always will. My dad has a six-pack and he's sixty-one years old. I've always taken it for granted that I would stay in shape. We eat, sleep, work out, and practice procreation. It's just the family value system. My daily priorities put working out above doing my hair. If I only have an hour and I have to choose between getting sweaty and washed up or showering and make-up, getting sweaty always wins. My dad gives us things like Bowflexes for Christmas presents. He's not giving us a not-so-subtle hint, he's giving us something he knows we'll use and enjoy.
I also never saw my mother 'diet' in terms of limiting calories. Never even heard the word until I got to high school. Cutting down on my calories was never my solution to weight. I eat when I'm hungry and I eat until I'm full. Now that I'm over 30, I have become conscious of my own family's daily menu because I want my husband and I to live a very long time. He's at high risk for heart attack and diabetes, and I don't want to be a fit and beautiful widow.
I feel lucky for the legacy of working out. It makes things so much easier now when it comes to staying healthy. I want to leave the same for my children.
My last weigh-in on my dad's scale was 182. That gives me another 40+ pounds to go, which I think is possible but still a challenge for me. I'm only 5'1" and the charts say I'm supposed to weigh 118. At 140 I don't think I'll have anything else to lose but my boobs. Not willing to sacrifice those. I have an intimate relationship with Victoria's Secret that I'm not going to give up. And while I have a larger badonkadonk, I don't necessarily want to lose it. I just want it to look good.
Last night I showed Jenn and Michelle my dad's gym. He has his own personal work out equipment that rivals Gold's Gym (minus the treadmills--we don't do treadmills, we do karate). I grew up in a family that works out. Always have, always will. My dad has a six-pack and he's sixty-one years old. I've always taken it for granted that I would stay in shape. We eat, sleep, work out, and practice procreation. It's just the family value system. My daily priorities put working out above doing my hair. If I only have an hour and I have to choose between getting sweaty and washed up or showering and make-up, getting sweaty always wins. My dad gives us things like Bowflexes for Christmas presents. He's not giving us a not-so-subtle hint, he's giving us something he knows we'll use and enjoy.
I also never saw my mother 'diet' in terms of limiting calories. Never even heard the word until I got to high school. Cutting down on my calories was never my solution to weight. I eat when I'm hungry and I eat until I'm full. Now that I'm over 30, I have become conscious of my own family's daily menu because I want my husband and I to live a very long time. He's at high risk for heart attack and diabetes, and I don't want to be a fit and beautiful widow.
I feel lucky for the legacy of working out. It makes things so much easier now when it comes to staying healthy. I want to leave the same for my children.
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