Now since all of that I've gotten married, had babies and am now an adult. Which means working a desk job with little to no physical activity (except for the "lifting 50+ pounds" as recorded on my job description which I have yet to do). But I have to confess one of my biggest fears to you. (Aside from being kidnapped, murdered, butchered, etc) Developing what I refer to as "secretary's ass".
You know what I'm talking about.
We've all been to a place (doctor's office, school, public health department, etc) where the secretary has a huge ass. And when she stands up it's like a fucking shelf back there. Like someone else could set their coffee cup up on there and have it go nowhere. And then they have to get the special ergonomically correct chairs that have the extra room for their double wide ass.
I can't let that happen.
but hello- I'm a secretary. (really my title is "Program Coordinator" but let's call a spade a spade, shall we? I'm a secretary. I'm like Pam on The Office. But way cooler and cuter). AND if you recall my 30/30 list you'll remember that my goal is to lose at least 15 pounds AND wear a bikini. In public. WITHOUT a coverup of some sort. Yeah. Well we've got a ways to go before we do that. As I told Steph from not the oxygen on FaceBook the other day, some days I feel like Free Willy. Like a cow who got lost in the wrong pasture. I know I don't look like this... ...but some days I feel like it.
So in order to fix all of this, I have purchased myself a treadmill. I had only been on a treadmill once with my failed YMCA membership ($178 down the toilet. Because I never went after my first time). And I had rocked it out for an hour and then almost passed out I was so dizzy. Because you see I must have bizarre vertigo or something because if I'm on something moving apparently I get all dizzy. Yah- you should see me on moving sidewalks. I look like I've had a few too many. But I figured in my own house it's totally ok to stagger around like a drunk.
Matt went and got it, carried it in (which was funny watching him haul the box in...hehe) and then assemble it. He does all of this while the kids and I use crayons to decorate the box and watch Kings of Leon Live at the O2. Fun.
I can't exercise in front of people because I feel all dumb which probably a result of making an ass out of myself in gym class all those years, so I kicked Matt out of our room so I could rock it out on the 'mill.
So I start out. I decide that 1 and 2 mph is for pussies. I'm better than that. So I jack it up to 3mph. I'm doing this for like 20-30 minutes and think, this is bullshit. Let's try 4mph. What happened is very close to this video. But I didn't fall. I almost did. But I did grab onto the curtain and totally slide off.
Thankfully I wasn't hurt, my curtains (and rod) are still intact, and most importantly- there were no witnesses.
I've done the fuckmill (because it's become somewhat torture to exercise daily...fuck you genetics) every day for at least 30 minues. I can get 1.5 miles in 27 minutes. Which is pretty good. I don't think the pulse checker do-da is right because it's got my pulse at 50 to 178 in the span of five minutes. Either this isn't accurate at all or I need to see a doctor. Or a cardiologist.
I know I'm not going to be super skinny. I don't expect to even get into my 10's again. BUT I do expect to lose some weight. I'd like to feel comfortable with myself again. I'd like to wear skirts and show off my legs. Because I have great legs. I'd also like to not feel like Free Willy. Or look like a beached whale when I walk out in my bikini.