This is not a post about how to lose baby weight, tips for eating right or the right way to exercise to get rid of your muffin top. It's a way to get my OWN butt motivated and moving. You know how in those goal books, they always mention to TELL people your goals and then you feel like you have a responsibility to actually work on them. That's what this post is about. Giving myself accountability.
In high school my metabolism worked really well. After watching the movie "Babe" one too many times, I gave up beef, and obviously pork. Eating only chicken and being on the swim team pretty much allowed me to eat whatever I wanted. I guess in fairness I should mention I had a part-time job as a gymnastics instructor, and that my arms were awesome - lifting the heavier kids to the high bar does that for a person. Full disclosure, I did gain weight between buying my prom dress and prom and I had to live on rice cakes for two weeks to fit into it. But generally, my weight didn't become an issue until after I graduated high school, began drinking in university (and again eating Big Macs and Big Bacon Classics), and then out in the working world just sitting on my butt at a computer all day.
I remember a few years ago I got into hot yoga and I joined a gym. I even started to eat a little healthier. Then, when nothing really happened and I was nearing my 30s, I figured I'd just wait until I got pregnant, had a reason it was OK to carry a little extra meat and then after my bundle of joy arrived I would walk it all off (going on walks is one of the only reasons I ever wanted a dog...again, forced responsibility). Yes folks, I seriously was like, "I'll just get fit and healthy after I have a kid."
Enter my pregnancy with Hannah. I felt jipped. Here I was, pregnant, HAVING to gain weight, and all I could do was graze. I had many little meals and snacks during the day. A lot of pepperoni pizza. A lot of those little white donuts you get from the grocery store. And probably more Taco Bell than any human should consume in a lifetime. But I couldn't have done a buffet justice.
And then Hannah was born. She was 8 lbs, and within two weeks of her birth I had lost about 20 lbs total. And I pretty much have yet to lose weight since then.
I've joined a Mom Booty Camp class, which kicks my butt in the best way possible once a week. But I should work out every day.
What about talking the baby for a walk you say? My first alone walk with Hannah was back in March. I took her to the post office up the street to pick up a package. She slept the entire way there. In the store, the noise woke her up. She was irritable but not crying. Then I hit a bump. She began to wail. And continued to do so all the way home. She wailed so much while we waited for the elevator that other residents of my building decided to wait for the next elevator versus riding 17 floors of crying hell with me.
But now that she's older she's a lot better. Hannah likes going out in the stroller. Or maybe I've just learned to avoid bumps. Perhaps a combination for the two. I've also started to use the swimming pool in our building.
And I'm going to try my hardest to make today the last day I eat half a bag of potato chips for lunch.
And on days when Hannah tires me out, I still need to DO something once Chris gets home, versus watching yet another rerun of America's Got Talent on Citytv.
Accountability. Here I come.
