I would like to know how one obtains energy, in regards to my serious problem with laziness. I’m not talking about the un-willingness to clean my house or go to work lazy. Or the “lay on the couch all day” lazy, no it’s the “I can’t get my extra large ass in gear to do my workouts” lazy. This was so much easier when I didn’t have a job. I could do my scheduled workout at my leisure, and get everything else done that requires my attention. Now my main goal is to make it to work on time and make sure my son has clean clothes to wear to school. Between work, household chores, football and breathing, my mind is already made up when I even think about dressing down for a workout, it’s saying “Hell no we won’t go!”
Do you ever have those moments when you think you are on the right track and something as simple as a comment, or a picture or, I don’t know, your own reflection can make you stop dead in your tracks and your mind immediately goes into “what the hell was I thinking” mode?
Well I was finally able to get my hair done yesterday. I haven’t been in to see my stylist since February and my disaster that I was wearing for hair was in desperate need of some TLC. After a 2-hour bought with shampoo, conditioner, color and scissors I came out looking fresh and sophisticated. I wore the “Yeah I know I’m cute” look all the way to my Dad’s house and felt so much better about driving with my windows down. My Dad being my Dad said he loved my hair, so naturally he decided to take pictures – yeah flashing back to my little kid years when he would catch me on the toilet sticking my tongue out at him. So after our visit I headed home and flipped open my laptop. I went straight to my favorite book (Facebook) and there it was. This horrid picture of me … and my 14 chins. I hadn’t realized that I invited them along. I was so wrapped up in my new “cuteness” that I didn’t see them just hanging there for everyone to look at! “Oh look at the girl with the cute hair – and her chins are with her! Everyone look at the girl with chins!” What’s even worse is my Dad actually thinks that his new camera is doing me some favor. Yeah, if he stood across the street and took the picture, maybe. But no, he had to put his super duper heavy-duty ultra “let me get all the pores on your face” lens on. There truly is nothing worse than seeing a picture of yourself and thinking, “do I really look like that?” Why didn’t someone tell me? You are your own worst critic, I get that. But seriously people.
So, it was at this precise moment that I realized that, aside from mental counseling, I’m in need of some treadmill therapy, or fat camp. Probably both. For now, I’m going to go sulk and tuck my chins in for the night.