UPDATE: The winner is…Peggy!
Okay, so this isn’t me. I’m not working out like a bitch to lose weight. I have too much work to do, and I’m 63 years old. I did however make a New Year’s Resolution—top of my list, actually—that I was going to drop some pounds this year.
I know, I know. New Year’s Resolutions tend to fall by the wayside a week inside the New Year. But that’s not me. I do tend to have some, when I make them a priority, that “stick”.
Take my resolution made years and years ago to post daily on my blog. For three years straight, I didn’t miss a day. I figured out that having lots of guests helped because content is HARD! The past couple of years, I had a handful of days where I missed posting. One handful. My mother’s passing was a great excuse. I simply didn’t want to face my keyboard when all I wanted to do was vent about how painful it all was, and that’s not me. I’m not a crier. I’m not a wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve person. Not even with the people I love most. My granddaughter is going through some things, life-threatening things, but we keep this house happy and positive. We’re a funny group of people, and we always find something to laugh about. THAT’s who we are.
So, back to this picture. I made a resolution that I’d lose some weight. I don’t plan to get slim. I plan to feel good. A week ago, I was at the twenty-pound mark. I felt svelte. (I’m so not, but hey, I could suck in my belly—that’s progress!) This week, I’m bumping back to nineteen, and I’m angry. No, I do not want to give up a morning of writing/editing to up my step-count. I want to work. So, I’m looking at the reasons why I’m plateauing. I’m not going to think too hard. I don’t have the time. I’ll cut out more salt (who eats eggs without salt?!). I’ll go back to being strict about my portions (I don’t like portions. I’d rather graze all day on 0-point foods!). Maybe, in the end, I’ll just relax. It is working. I’m standing taller. I’m not huffing up the stairs. My clothes are getting looser. I shouldn’t obsess over the scale.
I paid for seven months of online Weight Watchers. That told my family how serious I was. I’m two-and-a-half months in, and I still enter everything I eat in their little point counter. That’s dedication. It’s a habit now. I need more good habits.
Still, the picture above is funny. Although my hair’s getting more silver by the day rather than blonde now, that’s what I’d look like in a tight workout outfit. Maybe, I’ll go look for my handweights and place them beside my desk for “thinking time.” I wonder where that old Shake Weight is—it makes me laugh.
For a chance to win your choice of one of my backlist books, tell me what you do to make good, healthy habits!