Working things out

So, I gained a whack of weight a few years ago. The cause is irrelevant at this point, but I will say it was a combination of a physical state and a mental state. It got worse, I got worse, I got fat.

Now, my friends, god bless you, will say "not fat, just a bit overweight", but I say, no, any 5'3" woman in good health should not weigh close to 200 lbs. This is where I maxed out.

(Thankfully, the only person I think who has pics of me at this weight is Joe, and I hope he's deleted them by now, because, well, he's married, and that's what you should do with old pics of old fat girlfriends.)

Life improved, and I dropped considerable pounds just by liking myself again. I got down to 160 and stayed there, seemingly forever. Well, it has been three years, at least. I've toyed with the idea of losing more weight. In my twenties, I weighed 115 lbs bloated, so I know what thin feels like. I like what thin feels like.

And before I go into a whole disclaimer on why women should feel good about themselves at any weight and why we're all lovable, let me explain something about myself that is base and true.

I'm vain. Vain as a fucking peacock. I like to look good, at all times, bar none. I like to stop traffic, make an entrance, take breaths away, you name it, I'm in. It's not an insecurity, either. I don't feel unattractive now - I walk into rooms and turn heads now, too. But not like I used to. I want that "Holy Shit" look to some back in the eyes of the beholders. And not just men. To get a dirty look from a woman is a stroke you can't replace. These days, I get comments about my shoes, my outfit, even my eyes, but not my smokin' hot bod.

This is because, my friends, my bod ain't smokin'. It's really not even steaming, and that a nasty thought anyway. The only assets I have, and largely due to the weight I've gained, are my darling breasts. They keep my vanity assuaged these days. I may not be my skinny bitch self, but I usually have the best rack in the room.

But I digress.

I want to lose weight for a plethora of very good, very healthy, very Oprah reasons. But really, let's be honest, I want to be thin, attractive and energized. Not passable, middle aged and tired all the time.

So I have embarked on a new journey. After denial and procrastination, I called a personal trainer and have started this horrible thing called working out. I have paid in advance, I'm committed for at least 8 weeks, and while I was excited and jubilant last week in my first two sessions, after sessions three and four, which just ended, I am sore, cranky and not thin yet.

I assume writing about this will serve me some purpose, if not for the exercise (hyuk hyuk) in itself, but to keep my wits about me as I torture myself with protein intake, epsom salts, work out wear and the like.

Welcome aboard the good ship Just One More Rep Then We'll Move On To Cardio.