Over the last few weeks I have been giving "goals" quite a bit of thought so naturally, it's time to pen (type) the thoughts (disclaimer: they are not pretty thoughts and at times are completely self-indulgent - read on at own risk).
When I first started on my Fat to Fab expedition, my goal was simple. Lose weight (ta da). I even specified a goal weight 7kgs heavier than what I really needed to lose, just to ensure it was achievable. Truth be told, even then I actually did not think I could really achieve that goal! Sure, I desperately wanted to lose that weight, and more, but at that point in time I was so heavily cloaked in desperation that I would have settled for five, or at best 10 kilos. Anything beyond that was merely a bonus.
Well to my own applause, and amazement at times, I am sitting here now having achieved that goal and then some. HURRAH! However, despite the distance I have come, and the weight I have lost, I am still not quite satisfied. I find myself wondering if I truly ever will be, or will there to some degree always be flaws? New goals to consider? Pregnancy weight to loose? Cellulite on my bum? A lingering love handle....?
In my dreams (and so far only in my dreams) I have a washboard stomach so tight and toned that white shirts really are the new black. I have a tight and perky butt not an inch of cellulite to be seen, toned and slender thighs with that perfect muscular groove which signifies my athletic prowess, perfectly slender and toned arms without an inch of anything resembling a tuck-shop lady. When I flex, my muscles bulge (feminine like of course) and my whole body is tight enough to crack an egg on - and if I so desired, I could pull off swimmers - of any kind - in public!
The problem with this dream however (aside from the painstakingly obvious fact it is a dream), is that I am actually not 100% sure if I want to put in the effort it requires. I am not sure if I want to make the sacrifices needed to see these things become a reality. I am not sure if I can be arsed! (I am suffering from a lot of 'can't be arsedness' lately - the house looks like something fresh out of Baghdad as an example).
I know for so many people, simply losing weight and fitting into smaller clothes, picked straight off the rack, is the goal. And let's be honest, it's an awesome, self-satisfying, confidence boosting goal. Certainly not one to be sneezed at. I still get a buzz when I grab pants or tops straight off the rack in sizes small and medium and they not only fit, but they look good! It's a joy not to have to lie down on the change room floor and breathe in before using the wall as leverage to pull a pair of pants on.
The problem is however, now that I have essentially reached that goal, I am not sure where to go from here? I'll admit that at times my exercise regime is really only enough to sustain my lavish wine & cheese addiction (herein lies the problem). I know that at times I jog purely so I can enjoy dinner out with friends, or Muscle Man, without the conscious thoughts of the calories I consume. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy eating food I want, when I want, but in all honesty, it's only because I work my arse off that I can enjoy indulgent food without the lingering fear that tomorrow I might wake up with a 3rd butt cheek and a fat roll under my knee (HUGE irrational fear of mine).
It's funny you know, when I started this weight loss caper, I assumed that once the weight was off, I'd be able to hang up (or burn) the towel and the sweat bands and relish in my new found slenderness; whilst laying on the couch and watching day time TV. I was so very wrong.
Sure, many, many people can and do lose astronomical amounts of weight and maintain a leisurely lifestyle when it comes to exercise. Walking the dogs of an evening whilst having a gossip session with friends, a bike ride around the local bike paths with kids in tow, kicking a ball around the park. Trust me, these are all sensational forms of exercise and absolutely worthwhile, but some days as I am slogging out my 7kms on my treadmill (or the local footpaths), sweat beading off every surface and my breath coming hard and fast, I wonder what would happen if I stopped this? If I decided I'd had enough, I simply couldn't be arsed anymore.
My suspicion is that A) I'd be miserable! As much as some days I moan and carry on about jogging, (bitching about running, the entire run is common for me), the satisfaction and endorphins afterwards are entirely worth it. I also strongly believe it's this form of exercise that sees me get through each day without tying Jim to the wall with duct-tape Ala this style (boy oh boy that looks appealing).
When I first started on my Fat to Fab expedition, my goal was simple. Lose weight (ta da). I even specified a goal weight 7kgs heavier than what I really needed to lose, just to ensure it was achievable. Truth be told, even then I actually did not think I could really achieve that goal! Sure, I desperately wanted to lose that weight, and more, but at that point in time I was so heavily cloaked in desperation that I would have settled for five, or at best 10 kilos. Anything beyond that was merely a bonus.
Well to my own applause, and amazement at times, I am sitting here now having achieved that goal and then some. HURRAH! However, despite the distance I have come, and the weight I have lost, I am still not quite satisfied. I find myself wondering if I truly ever will be, or will there to some degree always be flaws? New goals to consider? Pregnancy weight to loose? Cellulite on my bum? A lingering love handle....?
In my dreams (and so far only in my dreams) I have a washboard stomach so tight and toned that white shirts really are the new black. I have a tight and perky butt not an inch of cellulite to be seen, toned and slender thighs with that perfect muscular groove which signifies my athletic prowess, perfectly slender and toned arms without an inch of anything resembling a tuck-shop lady. When I flex, my muscles bulge (feminine like of course) and my whole body is tight enough to crack an egg on - and if I so desired, I could pull off swimmers - of any kind - in public!
The problem with this dream however (aside from the painstakingly obvious fact it is a dream), is that I am actually not 100% sure if I want to put in the effort it requires. I am not sure if I want to make the sacrifices needed to see these things become a reality. I am not sure if I can be arsed! (I am suffering from a lot of 'can't be arsedness' lately - the house looks like something fresh out of Baghdad as an example).
I know for so many people, simply losing weight and fitting into smaller clothes, picked straight off the rack, is the goal. And let's be honest, it's an awesome, self-satisfying, confidence boosting goal. Certainly not one to be sneezed at. I still get a buzz when I grab pants or tops straight off the rack in sizes small and medium and they not only fit, but they look good! It's a joy not to have to lie down on the change room floor and breathe in before using the wall as leverage to pull a pair of pants on.
The problem is however, now that I have essentially reached that goal, I am not sure where to go from here? I'll admit that at times my exercise regime is really only enough to sustain my lavish wine & cheese addiction (herein lies the problem). I know that at times I jog purely so I can enjoy dinner out with friends, or Muscle Man, without the conscious thoughts of the calories I consume. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy eating food I want, when I want, but in all honesty, it's only because I work my arse off that I can enjoy indulgent food without the lingering fear that tomorrow I might wake up with a 3rd butt cheek and a fat roll under my knee (HUGE irrational fear of mine).
It's funny you know, when I started this weight loss caper, I assumed that once the weight was off, I'd be able to hang up (or burn) the towel and the sweat bands and relish in my new found slenderness; whilst laying on the couch and watching day time TV. I was so very wrong.
Sure, many, many people can and do lose astronomical amounts of weight and maintain a leisurely lifestyle when it comes to exercise. Walking the dogs of an evening whilst having a gossip session with friends, a bike ride around the local bike paths with kids in tow, kicking a ball around the park. Trust me, these are all sensational forms of exercise and absolutely worthwhile, but some days as I am slogging out my 7kms on my treadmill (or the local footpaths), sweat beading off every surface and my breath coming hard and fast, I wonder what would happen if I stopped this? If I decided I'd had enough, I simply couldn't be arsed anymore.
My suspicion is that A) I'd be miserable! As much as some days I moan and carry on about jogging, (bitching about running, the entire run is common for me), the satisfaction and endorphins afterwards are entirely worth it. I also strongly believe it's this form of exercise that sees me get through each day without tying Jim to the wall with duct-tape Ala this style (boy oh boy that looks appealing).
and B) I think I would consume more calories than I'd be burning and therefore I have horrifying visions of having to drag the "fat pants" out of moth balls! That and the fat roll beneath the knee. *shudder*
The question is, do I really want to? Can I really be bothered? Do I have it in me? Can I be arsed?
I guess stay tuned and we shall see!
******
**Muscle Man and I did not run the fun run! We opted for family brunch instead (I begged, he obliged). None the less, we ran around the lake this afternoon (7.3kms) and will probably send off a little donation to the cancer council to make up for what was no doubt our noticeable absence (*snort*).
4 comments:
Exactly! When is enough, enough?? And you r so right- those rippling abs, and de-flabbed thighs take so much work and a very boring diet *yawn*!! I feel the same way; with days where I beat myself up for not being more goal orientated and really going for it, and others where I just couldn't be stuffed!
:) Lil
Got it in one Lil!!
I envy people who are just so driven that they do it, no if's or butt's!
I keep wondering if it's time for a gym membership, but if I am being honest with myself, I doubt I'd get my money's worth and I'd almost be better off investing in a few peices of equiptment for a home based gym!
Oh to be rich and have a PT come to my lavish pad, a personal chef, a cleaner, and my own fashion design team :)
Oh well, I guess however we look at it, it's got to be onward and upward right?
Alf :)
Yes, onwards & upwards... well tone-wards and maintain-wards to be even more precise! I sometimes go to the gym (PCYC much cheaper)and find that it is great if I want to know exactly how many calories I burned (tho, its quite depressing when u do the maths and realise that the cherry ripe was soo not worth it) and watching others sweating it out serves as motivation but as a mum it is still a hassle to get to ie. hubby has to be home before my desire wanes (not much time!!) and I have to drive there! I prefer to just get the dog leads and hit the streets for a run, which due to our country town and neighbourhood, can be done at almost anytime.
And speaking of gym equipment what brand is your treadmill and do you think its a good investment?? (I'm thinking I should get one, then again I'm worried it is something I won't use that much).
And please can you send those helpful assistants (chef, PT, cleaner) around to my house once they've finished at yours??
Lil
Lil - Ummm, it was an Ebay one so not really a brand - Ummm, it was roughly $700 including delivery but you could get them cheaper I'd say. I LOVE my treadmill, it's served me very well and removed SO many excuses for me :o)
I am thinking I'll grab a x-trainer next :o)
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