Where does the year go? It doesn't seem like that long ago that I was making a list of things I wanted to accomplish last year. Although, I have to say that I can check a few things off of the list finally. Got a new bed and mattress. Check. Got someone to cut down several bushes and an overgrown hedge in my back yard. Check. Went to the doctor and she said I'm ten pounds heavier than last time. I now qualify to drive in the car pool lane by myself. Check!
When are we ever going to be done making that resolution to lose weight? And by "we", I mean women. Have you ever heard a man worrying about losing enough weight to get back into his skinny jeans? After all, men's waistbands don't get tighter, they get lower.
Another thing I finally got around to doing was gathering my exercise equipment into one room. I haven't lost any weight yet, but it is very gratifying to be able to tell people I have a home gym. Perhaps I lost at least a few ounces relocating my weight machine. It has wheels. It should have rolled right through the door. I knew there would be some disassembly but I didn't realize I would be doing most of it while stuck in the doorway. I'm not a math whiz, so some critical angling was slightly miscalculated. You can spackle indentations in a door frame. Right?
I recently purchased an upright punching bag. And by "recently", I mean it's still in the box. Once it gets out of the box though, look out! Kicking and punching should be a very good activity for a person with anger management issues. How wonderful it would be, at the end of this year, if I could check off losing weight and reducing my homicidal tendencies. However, I've already informed my supervisor, "Nicole", to expect me to show up at work in the near future with a pulled groin. It's been a while since I've raised my leg higher than five inches.
Of course, all of the exercising in the world is useless unless you make better eating choices. Last year did yield some minor food victories for me. I learned to live with the texture of oatmeal and I'm eating much healthier mayonnaise. Still struggling with those portion sizes though. I try to tell myself, "Beth, a proper meat serving is the size of your balled up fist, not the size of your left butt cheek. Especially since your left butt cheek is the size it is because you can't remember that a proper serving is the size of your balled up fist." See, I try to give myself little pep talks when I'm making dinner. Sometime soon, I'll ball up my fist and start punching my new punching bag. Opening a box should count as cardio. Right?
I thought reading some motivational books might help. Several people I know have simply raved about that book, French Women Don't Get Fat. It didn't inspire me to eat better, but it did inspire me to write my own book. It's going to be a thriller/diet book combo. The working title is I Just Burned 100 Calories Killing Two Skinny French Women. Let's see; I think typing burns two calories every three hours. Check!
I have to admit that losing weight is getting to be about more than just vanity. It would be nice to stop having so many aches and pains. A while back I had to explain to my boss, who I'll call "Melissa", why I couldn't wear pretty flip flops. For years I've been suffering from dropped arches in my feet and a flip flop just doesn't give me enough support. Melissa said she was good to go because she loves high heels. She just wouldn't listen to me when I told her stilettos aren't a reasonable substitute for a good orthotic.
If you were thinking that my weight is the only area I need to improve upon, you'd be very wrong. Getting rid of the jungle that used to grow around my yard was only the first step in renovating my house. I think it's safe to say that when the neighbor girl asks me why I'm not afraid to live in a haunted house, it's time to paint. My gravel driveway has become a small series of wading ponds. This summer, around 1000 tadpoles hatched in one of the deeper areas. I'm not very religious, but I have to say it was a little humbling to experience one of the Seven Deadly Plagues unfolding in my very own back yard.
The inside of my house needs some work as well. I watch this show on cable about people who have a serious issue with hoarding. Let's just say, I have a strong urge to tidy up after I watch it. Before you get the wrong idea though, I don't need a shovel to get from room to room and I do know the last time I saw my dog. So I'm not ready to invite the camera crew over for dinner just yet.
In an effort to clean up, I've spent a small fortune on big, plastic containers. According to the professional organizers on HGTV, there's nothing in life that can't be solved with the right storage bins. In fact, a good closet shelf was once credited with curing a case of gout.
I really do look forward to all of the things I'll be accomplishing this year. And by "this year", I mean January and possibly part of February. After that, I'll probably be following a friend's advice to stand on the scale backwards at the doctor's office. That way you can't see what you weigh. Check!