Back to the Weight Room…

I have one of these heavy buggers! :)

I have one of these heavy buggers! 🙂

I know that since “catching a break” last November, fitness has not been on my front burner (or even on my radar, really) for months. I haven’t cracked the books for my CPT course in many, many moons, either. (Hanging head in shame…)

It isn’t like I’ve had nothing to do over these past four months since I fell; crochet projects, homemade salts/lotions/butters, homemade wine and beer, digging out dogs, etc., have kept the shorter days pretty full.

I’ve done the occasional Zumba workout because I love them, but I pay for them the following day.

Who WOULDN'T want to be in here?

Who WOULDN’T want to be in here?

As you know, Johnny, Peri and Sean moved all the junk out of what used to be the boys’ room into what used to be the studio and brought all the fitness equipment in, and we painted, etc. so that I’d have a really cool space in which to lift my weights and use my treadmill. I have lacked interest, however, in that there was always some excuse NOT to go in there and move those weights; ankle is sore, too tired, worked late, let’s bottle the wine, let’s drink the wine…ad nauseam. We even managed to mount a TV with a Roku streaming stick over the treadmill and get my bluetooth speakers in there to complete the transformation. I can count the number of times I’ve been in there on less than both hands. 😦

Since I fell, my weight dropped, too. When I hit my ultimate goal weight of 135 lbs., I was thrilled. Who knew weight loss while doped up on the couch could be so darned easy, right? Except then five more pounds fell off and I was down to an unseen (since 1992, anyway) 130 lbs. Ok, time to stop losing and start working on maintaining around the UGW of 135, which I did. Over the past few months I’ve been hovering between 134 and 137 depending on what day it is. Sounds great, right? Well, one would think so. I look pretty good in clothes, but without them?

I know. It’s that bad.

So what this tells me is that I’m not a special snowflake that doesn’t need strength training, that it’s better to be a little heavier on the scale and lift the weights than to just occasionally cardio and have smaller numbers at your weigh-in. I most assuredly looked AND felt better when I was lifting regularly. Ten pounds ago I was lifting 3-4 times a week and was killing it in a swimsuit. Now? Not so much. I now see that I’m starting to develop “old lady body” and am continually cringing when I pass a mirror wearing what appears to be a jiggle suit, except I’m not wearing anything. Like, SERIOUSLY? I can’t believe it’s gotten this bad in just four short months.

It’s only March 22, and I have a good 6-8 weeks until pool season starts, and figure I can make it back to where I was at the end of last year’s season if I get on it right now. As in today. So I did. I made myself get off the couch and lifted for the first time in over two months. I feel amazing, although I am fairly certain that I will be sore tomorrow, but that’s okay. I am making a promise to myself to get into that room at least three times a week and get those plates on the bar and put them to good use. Today’s numbers were better than the numbers from two months ago, but still puny compared to where I was at my personal best. That’s ok, though. I’ll come back.

100 days and counting!

100 days and counting!

“Where did all of this sudden motivation come from?” you ask. Or maybe you don’t; I don’t know, but I’m going to tell you, anyway. I am going to hit the big five-oh at the end of June (the 30th for those of you wanting to send gifts, haha), and I am starting to feel older than I should. I get that as we age, we don’t heal as quickly as we used to, but damn, y’all! FOUR months and I still have pain? So I need to avoid the higher impact activities and get back to basics. But there’s more. I am starting to see crepe paper old lady hands that are really starting to remind me of how my grandma’s hands looked, and they are attached to my wrists. Where I’ve lost the 57 pounds? There is some skin on my neck that reminds me of a turkey. There are also some other physical things that I’m going through that are really starting to piss me off, and I’m not having this. None of it.

A year ago I had contemplated training to compete in body-building types of competitions over the summer of my 50th birthday. I mean, this is just how slack I’ve become in comparison. Granted, I know I won’t be doing that, because to strut across that stage and pose would require the use of high heels, and this girl is not risking her ankle on heels. I’m paranoid. I get it, but one stupid injury should not be enough to derail everything I have busted my butt achieving since January 2013.

That said, I am putting this out there because I know it will help keep me accountable.

Has this ever happened to you?

Has this ever happened to you?

What are goals that you have struggled to reach only to let them fall by the wayside because you got distracted by something else? What signs of aging are you experiencing that have taken you by surprise? Yes, I know that being hobbled with a broken bone is legit, but how long has it been since I got the green flag from my favorite Ortho doc? Yeah. That. So spill, because, again, I want to feel better about myself knowing some of you experience this, too!  😉

Until next time…

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