Last year for my 40th birthday, I opened up a big fat package of flab. Previously taut muscles sagged. My thighs started to jiggle. My boobs finally decided it was time they grew out of a too big A cup bra. Even my stomach, that managed to stay flat after having four kids decided it was done, and all of a sudden it was way too round. I always knew that my body would do some shifting someday, but I didn’t know it would all happen exactly on my 40th birthday, and all it one day. I wasn’t ready.
Slowly I’ve been replacing my wardrobe, because I’m actually good with the extra weight, because I used to be way too skinny. I no longer have to buy half my clothes in the girls’ department. I can wear actual adult clothes. Plus, having boobs? That is such a nice change. I can wear those shirts that are fitted around the bust and not have to stuff my bra with socks. I’ve always wanted boobs, but I don’t do general anesthesia or surgery, so the only way to have them was to have a baby stuck to my chest, and I’ve already spent enough of my life dealing with that.
The flab. I cannot handle the flab. I don’t like my body parts jiggling, and I don’t like being able to pinch and inch or three. And the idea of a muffin top? Hell no!
So, I started exercising, even though I hate every single second of sweating. I use weights. I’ve learned to use a stability ball even though I pretty much have no balance skills whatsoever. I’ve learned that I can’t have an all candy, chips, and soda diet. I even stopped using my treadmill as a coat rack. I’ve learned that all the Real Housewives shows, Glee, and Gossip Girl will keep me on the treadmill longer. I’ve learned that I can eat popsicles and drink a beer (not at the same time) on the treadmill without falling, although that probably defeats the purpose. I’m pretty sure that multi-tasking is sometimes required, though, if I’m to fit exercise into already busy days.
Yesterday I went out with the Chubby Mommy Running Club. I’ve gotten used to running on the treadmill, but running outside is an entirely different beast. The fresh air nearly killed me. And there was sleet and snow flurries (yeah, May sucks ass this year) and maybe some rain. And I don’t normally run three miles, because I prefer to just set my treadmill incline to 8 and walk uphill for an hour.
Today, my legs are killing me. I hope I don’t need anything from upstairs, because I won’t make it up there unless I crawl. I hope I can at least manage to stop over the little edge of the shower, but even that will be iffy. If you smell someone today, you’ll know that 3 inches was too much. If you see someone eating all the ibuprofen in the grocery store, that will be because my Costco sized bottle of it wasn’t enough. If you see someone crying because she parked the car and has to step up a curb, that will be me.