This is getting hard, y’all. This changing my perspective thing. Like, way hard.
I stepped on the scale this morning and read the following number which will likely make me want to cry.
I know, I know. It isn’t supposed to be about the number, and really? It’s not. I mean, it is, but it isn’t.
It IS, however, about how I don’t feel any different except for in my legs and butt. Which is awesome, until I can’t button my pants because of the mom gut hanging out there that is.not.going.away.at.all. And for whatever reason, I can’t seem to get out of my classroom before 4:15 each day which means I’m not making it to the gym until 4:25 and I can’t stand to leave Joshua in daycare for 10 hours a day so I rush through 30 minutes on the elliptical and fly out the door to go pick up my boy.
(What exactly is it I’m doing on the elliptical? It isn’t running. Or walking in place. Or jogging. Thus, I’m calling it “elliping” henceforward.)
And then when we get home, I feel all sorts of Mom Guilty because I could’ve picked him up sooner and come home and cooked a meal that we could all sit down and eat as a family thereby encouraging him to try new things, but no. I was elliping. For no results that I can see.
And today? Because of the time change and being all “WTFISGOINGON!?” this morning, I’ve forgotten my sports bra. And I do NOT work out without one of those bad boys to strap the girls in their locked and semi-upright positions for the duration of the elliping.
The not frustrating thing? I feel GOOD when I ellip for 30 minutes. I get in the car all flush-faced and I want to take pictures to share the glory I feel radiating from my body. (But it does not LOOK as glorious as it feels, so? No pics.)
I’ve reached a point where once I get there, I like that I’m there. I LOVE that I’m there. I love that I’m doing something that is only for me and it makes me feel good. I get all endorphin-y and YAY ME!
And then I get discouraged and think, “God, am I going to have to do this EVERY SINGLE DAY to see results? Why does that Gazelle guy say 20 minutes a day, 3 times a week when he gazelles??”
So? My goal for this week is to stay focused. And perhaps not eat a gigantor steak.
(Though it WAS my birthday and it WAS part of my birthday gift. And it WAS delicious.)
(And speaking of my birthday, go enter my giveaway, yo. Please and thank you.)