My husband is in the Army, and because he’s not in a job that requires him to do regular PT, he does CrossFit to stay in shape. He ran the Army 10 Miler last year with barely any training, and he prepares things like salmon and quinoa for dinner pretty regularly. It’s safe to say, he’s definitely fit.
I’ve always hated working out. Cake and I are best friends for life. The office I work in has a giant bowl of candy (usually chocolate) refilled often, and conveniently located near my desk. Office celebrations typically involve doughnuts and cake. Have I mentioned I love cake? And last year, I had my first child. So yeah, I’d say I’m a little fluffier than I’d like to be, but I’m still trying to set a good example for my daughter, who currently loves peas and blueberries; two foods I really don’t eat.
This year I’ll (attempt to) run my first 10K race. I’m doing it with sorority sisters who don’t live close to me, so to stay motivated, we text each other about our training. I’ve only ran 5K races before, so I’m definitely nervous the loser bus will pick me up before the finish line, and I won’t get to take a selfie with that shiny medal. I can see it now: I’ll be in my Cinderella costume, complete with tutu, guzzling water at each and every station, in an effort to NOT die. I really hate running.
Each year, I tell myself this is the year I’m going to work out all the time and eat kale …which is gross no matter how much you do to it. But somehow I manage to convince myself I’m not that unhealthy, even though I’m constantly sucking in my stomach and avoiding any clingy clothing. Recently, a woman behind the counter at a local deli actually asked me if I was pregnant. “No,” I said, “I just love cake.”
So is this the year, finally? I still don’t know, it’s too early to tell. With each run I take, I feel my lungs stretch a little more, and it’s slowly becoming easier. The sparkling water I drink, instead of my beloved Coke, tricks my brain into thinking I’m drinking soda, and most veggies are good if you dip them in hummus.
Ultimately, it’s a battle I wage with myself each day. No one else but me. Even though my husband sees this slightly ‘fluffy’ body and whistles with pride, it’s me who must be happy with the woman in the mirror. No amount of bulky sweaters and draping fabric will make me feel healthy. Feeling healthy will take work and discipline, both of which take more time than putting on camouflaging clothes.
Work and discipline are values my husband holds dear, and I know he’ll be an excellent person to lean on when I want to get a cupcake AND macarons.
Did you make a New Year’s resolution to get healthy? How did you stay motivated? Leave me a comment with your tips!