Thursday, May 7, 2015

Big Mama

I have a really weird relationship with fitness.  On the one hand, I just can't get into exercise.  I dread going to the gym and the idea of running a mile or two tires me out before I even hit the pavement.  And then on the other hand...well the other hand is holding a Snickers bar, so let's ignore that hand.


I'm really just not a naturally fit person.  I have friends that exercise like it's going out of style.  They can quote their carb intake for the day or even give you a line up of what moves will tone your glutes...or toots...or whatever fastest.  I'm not those people by a long shot. This isn't to say I refuse to take care of myself though.  Quite the contrary.  As the birthday candles increase on my cake (and there's always cake), I've tried to make it a priority to eat just a teensy bit better and on rare occasions I even jump a jack or two.  At the very least, I wear lots of really cute work out gear when I walk around the mall which encourages me to walk a half step faster and suck in when I'm in front of people.  That's gotta be some cardio, right? 

Well bikini season is right around the corner, or as I like to call it One Piece Accessorized By a Flattering Cover Up & Sunhat Season.  And since the kids have a tendency to want to do activities when the sun is out, I figured it'd behoove me to try and lose an ounce or two since I'd probably end up on someone's beach (translation: with my feet in the blow up pool while sitting in the driveway).  Either way, I decided to shape up.

Well imagine my surprise when only 2 days into my new lifestyle I (astonishingly) pulled a muscle in my hip while exercising. Really weird since the amount of energy I typically exert is less than what it takes to eat a Big Mac.

So here I am, no pounds lighter but I do believe I've learned some things: 
1-Muscle relaxers make me way more fun as a mom (Wanna paint your sister? Sure! Eat Starburst for breakfast? Hell yeah, homie!) I'm ashamed to say these things happened and...

2-Clearly God doesn't want me trying to improve on perfection. Message received, Lord, message received.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Playground rules apply: Speak the way you'd like to be spoken to and if you don't play nice, I'm kicking you off my monkey bars.