Back in the BC (again, before children), I started my day at 6:00 with a Jane Fonda aerobics video. My kids laugh when I say this, but I was in good shape. Then, I got pregnant with Eric. She’d start that video with some simple neck exercises and I’d throw up in the first 5 minutes. I put on enough weight to give birth to grade school kid. After he was born, I lost part of it, but I was tired all the time. Then, I had Beth. I don’t remember if I tried very hard after that. In the beginning of my marriage, my husband told me I was fat and I cared. By this point, I was over it. About 10 years ago, I started walking in the morning and lost around 50 pounds. Then things got crazy at work and I stopped.
Today, I’m trying to undo … well Eric is 23, so I’m trying to undo 24 years of over eating and under exercising. I thought a year and a half on the treadmill would put me in pretty good shape. That was before Pilate’s.
I can do the arm workout. It burns … it burns a lot, but I’ve been doing some arm stuff on the treadmill since January, so there are a few muscles there. Not only can I touch my toes, but I can put my hands flat on the floor. It’s gardening. I have bad knees. I bend from the hips, when I weed instead of kneeling. The backs of my thighs are iron … but the inner thighs are a flabby mess.
I have big-gut-flat-butt syndrome. My abs are Jell-O. I’ve got nothing. As I have said before, this fat and I have been together a couple of decades. It will not go quietly. This is my third week, and I have yet to do the whole abs series. That’s my goal, and it may kill me. So if I suddenly quit posting, you’ll know what happened … death by Pilate’s.
The instructor and my friends have been very supportive. They keep telling me I’m getting better. It’s bull, but I don’t care. I WILL get better, but I am just not better yet. Still, I appreciate the kindness
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